My grandpa was a scrooge when I was just a child.
He was so hateful and never gave anyone a smile.
Our grandpa was always guiet and never spoke a word.
The talking came from granny thats the only words we heard.
At our Christmas meal granny would say a prayer.
Mean'ol grandpa sat there in his big'ol wooden chair.
He never spoke a word or showed us that he cared.
But on Christmas morning grandpa's tree was never bare.
He hand made a present for each and everyone.
It took him over a year to get them all done.
Thought's of my late grandpa is why Christmas means so much.
I remember the handmade gifts he made with his loving touch.
Teresa Skyles
