OurChristmas©2020TonyFallon1216
My
younger days spent in Ireland I so fondly remember
The long long
days of summer the promises of December
But
money was scarce back then with little to borrow or lend
Credit
cards were not yet invented so you couldn't overspent
That
was the time before TV with no canned recreation
And what you
were getting for Christmas was the conversation
Most
people sowed their vegetables to help keep down the bills
It was
long and heavy work plowing and molding the drills
The
farming community raised food and went on few shopping sprees
I
only remember branches we could not afford Christmas trees
Most
farmyards had ducks or geese and always a rooster crowing
My
mother took care of her turkeys when winter wind was blowing
No
better clutches of turkeys were raised by other moms
No
one in the County Roscommon had the like of her toms
She
fed them Indian meal but often before it was dispersed
Us four
children would add some sugar and eat it for dessert
To
get her turkey plump and fat was my mother’s target
As
she talked daily about the upcoming Athlone market
She
raised many white turkeys that grew to enormous size
And
many years she came back to Rahara with a
first prize
She
had justification to be happy proud and gay
One
of her turkey hens would be dinner in The Hudson Bay
From
last years champion she would
be a
direct descendant
My
mother's name would be in the Westmeath Independent
Many
of her birds wound up too in Hannon's in Castle street
So
families in Dublin and London eat Mrs. Fallon's meat
She
didn't publicize her talent but some smart people knew
And
over the years her reputation for turkeys grew and grew
People
drove from Offaly who were worried about inbreeding
And
to get advice on the best of food for champion feeding
The
turkey money probably went to buy brand new toys
To
be delivered by the jolly man known as Santa Clause
I
don't know where mother got them or how she successfully hid
Because
I spent two weeks searching for them I was a nosy kid
We
would all be downstairs at sunrise early on Christmas morn
And
we'd all be more interest in toys than the Christ Child that was
born
To
get to mass in the pony and trap would take near half an hour
And
you'd be praying before you got there they'd be no shower
You'd
get shillings from aunts and uncles if lucky maybe a pound
And
go home to odor of cooking as the turkey was getting browned
The
turkey and vegetables in the pot grew in our own field
Vegetables
did not come frozen but had to be washed and peeled
That evening around the table I remember it was like a feast
None recalled the sin of gluttony preached earlier by the priest
