When Mini was one year old
She caught a blighted ugly cold
Santa came home that Christmas night
To give the baby a warm delight.
Next Christmas Mini got a shoe
Santa made her feet woe
But Mini loved the reddish color and
She kept it in her cupboard drawer.
Another Christmas came too soon
Santa bought her colors from Rangoon
She painted everything white and
Gave her mother a hearty delight.
So Christmases went by every year and
Santa was her mystery, dear.
She would write her wishes down
In wafer, and drop it in the socks of paper.
Her wishes would always be met
She felt she was Santa’s special pet.
The gifts were wrapped in blue and white,
Always opened with a rum delight.
They came without fail every year,
From far off places men may fear.
On her ninth birthday when Santa did not come
Friends said, she had grown up enough.
She wept and wept and wept away
Little hearts that break behave that way.
Her wishes would always be met
She felt she was Santa’s special pet.
Early that year, one summer’s day
Death had taken her father away.
‘Santa, get my father back.’ She wrote.
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