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She sat quietly in the circle,
less and less words each year
but more and more smiles
and twinkles from her eyes.
Laura came with me to take
a spot in the circle.
I think she got it.
She got the time line and
the echo to Christmases past.
My mother had on her yuletide
earrings and looked so cozy
in her sweater.
Her heart warmed by the fibers
and yet warmed even more
by her descendants
all the way down to her
great grandson.
And Laura sat next to me
silent most of the time.
And I wondered if one day she will
be the matron of honor
sitting quietly, smiling, twinkling
like a little star
with my mother’s heart in hers.
Gerald the Writer 
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