in the background of photos
Phillip Gillis’s oldest kids and their cousins at Christmas Eve at his grandparents' house. By Phillip Gillis.
Two directories –
North Fork in Virgilina.
Rock Grove in Allensville.
a brick church on the front of each.
every family picture with a plain blue background.
How does Santa always know? one asked earlier
blowing warmth into his hand.
the red go karts ripped the yard apart –
the same way their parents tore through christmas eve supper casseroles the night before.
two brothers (and their three cousins)
all with the same red go kart.
brand new
(but not for long).
their grandparents and parents watching from the patio door.
So much for the yard. Santa did you wrong this year.
the adults laughed. the children squealed.
breakfast on christmas morning—
honey baked ham. eggs (scrambled hard).
sausage (freshly ground and not too spicy).
thin cut tomatoes.
biscuits (the same ones all their grandparents made).
coffee and extra sharp cheddar.
they pause.
Thank you for this family.
some of them there. others not.
but they were.
the living room was a wasteland of piles
and piles and piles and piles
and piles
of wrapping paper by christmas afternoon.
their grandparents’ famous green beans cooking in the adjacent kitchen
and stew in the crockpot.
four small cousins burrowing through tunnels built in paper.
two brothers (now the older cousins) supervising when one asked
What’d Santa bring you?
the four small ones ignored them –
content to dig.
years from now,
stories of go karts (always red)
and food (even casseroles)
and gag gifts (I didn’t know they made those that big)
and great escapes (in wrapping paper)
and “more things…than are dreamt of”
and and and and and and
and…
all of that
in the blue backgrounds of two photos
(in a pair of church directories)
if you look…
