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Christmas was close, only moments to go.

Anticipation of Santa makes the time pass so slow!.

My house was all decorated and so was my heart.

CHOC’s annual toy drive was ready to start.

We’d bought several presents more than were required!.

I needed this outing…my spirits were tired….

Our mode of transportation was a car not a sled...

And visions of CHOC’s children whirled around in my head.

And suddenly before me (life can be unfair).

Around the next corner was the child in the chair.

I couldn’t determine if it was a boy or a girl.

The balding little head, had nary a curl….

A tiny body blanketed head to toe.

A pallor of gray, replaced a once healthy glow….

Machines that were tethered to this tiny child.

Created a scene so disturbing, and wild.

How could we be Christmasing with these families in hell.

Enjoying relatives and children, So Ro-bust and well….

Now, as Christmas draws closer, I’m much more aware….

How it’s meaning was changed by the child in the chair.

POEM BY: CAROLE