Eleven Pipers Piping

The bags under our eyes had begun to show before the party even started. My grandmother had been planning and cooking all day to prepare for the guests, her relatives. My sister had worked an 8-hour shift on a day she usually gets off, so she could be at home to visit with the family. I had personally re-created forty little chocolate-covered cherry mice. My grandfather had dragged in soggy logs and had managed to breathe life into our Texan fireplace. Then the Christmas Eve party began.

After singing stanza after stanza of joy-filled carols with our extended family, we ate delectable turkey leg meat, plus many other savory sides. When we finally convinced our stomach that there was room for one more dessert, we gorged ourselves with pie and ice cream. Once we said goodbye to all of our loved once, my grandmother, sister and I began to clean up the kitchen. We did not get very far. My grandfather could not wait to open the presents. He herded us out of the kitchen and into the den, and prodded us to open our gifts. We all oohed and awed at each other's goodies, cheering the loudest when a small token of love was greeted with an exclamation of delight. After each box had been opened and every stone overturned, it was my sister who first noticed an absence.

"It will be 7 o' clock in the morning for them in an hour." She stated blankly, and yet, it was a request. Our siblings and parents would be waking up in Africa on Christmas morning in just one hour.

We decided to attempt to meet our family on the internet when it was 11PM for us. We turned on our laptop and discovered that they were, indeed, on their computer. Hooray! One by one, and in front of the webcam, our siblings opened the presents my sister and I had mailed many weeks ago. We laughed when our siblings bestowed upon us such predictable reactions, such as, "What the heck is that?" Nevertheless, most of the gifts were warmly welcomed. Intermittently, I received text messages from a good friend of mine, and glanced up, grinning, when I heard my family notice my texting thumbs. Gifts from my grandparents to my family in Africa were then unwrapped and received the due praises. All the while my grandparents sat behind me, smiling and nodding at the computer screen. As my father enthused over how much fun my little brother would have with his new robot-building tool box, I took a private inventory.

Party with caroling relatives: Check. Presents: Check. Loved ones, far and near: Check. Yes, this definitely felt like Christmas.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me eleven o'clock rendezvous, ten sunlit minutes, nine neighborhood noises, eight perfect presents, seven souls a-singing, six sweet surprises, five Christmas treats, four different books, three great dames, two hands two thumbs, and a volunteer named Mary.