This poem was written by a friend of mine from summer camp. (Stan Schwartz)

Happy Holidays

I wrote this a little over a year ago as the final posting of a blog I was doing http://alifeinstories.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A Final Post

I think this will be my final post here. Time to move in another direction.

This is a true story and I will keep it brief; for the full version, you will have to get in touch with me. It was back in 1977 probably near the start of the holiday season and I was teaching at the Melrose Day Care Center. A local printer donated some high quality paper, just about the kind used to make greeting cards. So I cut the paper into small sheets, about 5 x 7 or so and put them out with water colors for the kids to paint on. The results were amazing! Each painting was a kaleidoscope of colors with much more depth than the typical white paper or recycled paper we usually used. With my limited knowledge of art, it looked to me that they could have been painted by Picasso. The kids must have made about fifty of them. Realizing how nice they looked, I recognized the potential to fold them in half and use them for greeting cards. So, I admit, I took some home. Back then, I wrote poetry. So, I took a poem I wrote for the holidays and with my shaky handwriting wrote out holiday cards to a small number of friends using these Picasso-like water colors. A few years ago, I got a Christmas card from my old friends, Jeff and Trish and in the card, addressed to an "old friend", they told me that every year at Christmas, they would take out the card and read it. Last month while in New Orleans at my son's wedding, I got an email from my friend Eric; he told me that while cleaning out his attic, he came upon a card that I had sent him many years ago. Eric and I were student teachers at Melrose Day Care and the only two men in the Wheelock grad program in 1975-76. I knew right away what he was talking about. Some of you may have the original (if you'veknown me since then); hold onto it, it might be worth something! For the rest of you who have somehow found your way into my life, here goes (Happy holidays with love and friendship):

Old Friends

Old friends come home again

As the change of the seasons

And the loving seems to quicken

For a wide range of reasons.

There can be softness in the winter air

There can be quiet in the midst of storm

There is peace with the words of those who care

There are arms in which to feel safe and warm.

In the shadows of the memories

There are simple pleasures

And in the patches of grief

We find strengths to later measure

Wintertime thoughts of spring

Remain a simple treasure.

Old friends come home again

To the cities' lonely winter reaches

And the loving seems to quicken

With tales in rhyme of distant beaches.

There are scars from other years

And scenes replayed in other words

In worlds of sunset flocking birds

And wondrous highs and vivid fears.

Old friends come home again

To listen close and take your hand

And the loving seems to quicken

With visions of a magic land

Old friends come home again

As the change of seasons

And the loving seems to quicken

For a wide range of reasons

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