The front porch lights greet us 

As we enter her quaint home in Queens. 

I could never imagine celebrating anywhere else 

The night of Christmas Eve. 

Gifts wait by the tree, bedecked in envelopes and ornaments,

A comical balance of memories and money.

Mingling in the kitchen and running after the young,

It’s the little things like these that become great fun!

We proceed to the church, packed tight in every aisle,

Of both everyday churchgoers, and those who only show up once in a while.

We see young Mary and Joseph lay the bambino on His humble bed, 

As the little angels sing out “Hosana!”, the shepherds follow the Star to its end. 

Starting our meal together in prayer, 

We are grateful to have each other, our health, and our happiness. 

But the little ones, whose appetites are more impatient than they, 

Speak up and say, “Chow time!” So let the feast commence!

It is true what they say about a Nonna’s Christmas cooking: 

One always leaves the table as full as Santa’s belly. 

And the presents near the tree, wrapped so thoughtfully, 

Seem to whisper to us children, “Please! Open me!” 

Pictures and videos capture every moment, smile, and scream, 

As wrapping paper gets thrown in haste 

To uncover what’s inside that box, that bag, 

“A new Hess Truck! Yippee!”

A chill in the air, and the moonlit sky glows;

Santa must be on his way! 

We gather ‘round the eldest girl 

who reads a work of Moore that everybody knows:

“Twas the night before Christmas,” 

As the twinkling lights of her home wave us good-bye, 

Headed home in the car, one child asks

“Was that Rudolph’s nose in the sky?” 

Even years later, the magic remains 

Through the laughter of family and our happy days. 

This has been my Christmas Eve, ever since I was born.

And every year it brings me that same excitement, as I await the Christmas morn’.