My good friend Peter wrote this Christmas poem. I think it's just as good in its way as the Klondike-inspired works of Robert Service. We hope you like it, too.
For a real Yukon Christmas . . . How would it go?
Had God sent his Son to this land of snow
Not born in Bethlehem, but the Yukon instead
In a small trapper's cabin, no crib for a bed
One dark and lonely star-studded night
By a crackling wood stove and soft candle light
A grizzly old trapper was reading his book
When a knock at the door caused him to look
The hinges squeaked open and there in light’s beam
Stood a young couple by a thin husky team
"Sorry to bother you", the stranger did sigh
"But if we keep on going, our wheel dogs will die
"We can’t go no further. . . we’re also dead tired
We saw your candle and hoped there’d be fire
We need to warm up and we need a room
For Mary’s expecting, our baby’s due soon"
"A room you will get, boy . . . It’s the Yukon, you know
We always help travelers that are stranded in snow
My place is your place. I’ll sleep out tonight
I’ll heat up my wall tent with a cosy airtight
"Babies ain’t my thing" the old trapper chuckled
As he pulled on his mitts and his boots tied and buckled
"There’s coffee on the stove and some fresh bannock too
And help yourself to my two-day moose stew"
That very evening Mary gave birth
God sent his Son to spend time on earth
Born in a cabin on an old trapping line
In a small bush clearing surrounded by pine
Joseph emptied the grub box and lined it with hide
Wrapped the baby in plaid and laid Him inside
It’s hard to imagine, this is God’s only son
Is it strange or just special the way his life has begun?
Suddenly there was a soft rap at the door
He wondered if the trapper forgot something before
Joseph went to the door and there stood three men
They were R.C.M.P., so he asked them in
"We were up river, but we saw the sign
We’ve been heading this way since just after nine
We all were amazed by heaven’s bright beam
It showed us the way to your cabin, it’d seem
"Now I’m not religious but something is clear
Something special and wonderful is goin’ on here"
They stomped off the snow and came through the door
Walked to the baby and knelt on the floor
The first man offered his warm beaver cap
"We can pull out the stitches and make it lie flat
He needs to be warm, He’s such a small thing
A beaver skin blanket is fit for a king"
The second one offered his old Coleman light
"It belonged to my dad but it sure works alright
With hours of darkness and a very short day
You’ll be the light, to show men the way"
The last one slipped off a large nugget ring
Large Klondike placer which he gave to the king
"I mined this myself and of this I am sure
This ring, like this Christ Child, is priceless and pure"
And suddenly the Northern Lights split the dark sky
With weaving and dancing, the bands they did fly
Then heavenly angels with shining white wings
Came to worship the Christ Child and they started to sing
Merry Christmas to all . . .
And to all a good night.
Posts
