The bells are ringing in the square. The tree is trimmed, but no one’s there Except for me.
There are presents beneath my tree And all of them are just for me. Because this year, I’m spending it alone.
In all the world, Is there anything lonelier than Christmas When you don’t want anyone else there?
There were parties to go to. My mother asked me to go And so did my friends But I want to be alone.
I want to cry over my turkey. I want to be able to weep over all the presents Without their gentle words.
–What’s wrong, Dora?†–There’s nothing to cry about, dear.†–I’m sorry it has to be this way.â€
When he says that, It makes a lonely Christmas better. If I went there, I’d have to see him.
I sleep late. There’s no one to wake me. –Come on, Dora, it’s Christmas!†None of it.
When I wake, I open the presents. Molly sent a sweater. She didn’t have to. But she has.
My mother sent a number of things. Socks, mittens, remonstrations for not being home. Everything she thinks I need.
There is a box from him. A small one, nothing spectacular. But he has remembered me. He has sent something.
–Dear Dora, Merry Christmas. Remus.â€
A simple card. What it doesn’t say is more important Than what it does. And in the box…
Is a diary. On the front it says, –What I Feel Today.†He is trying to help.
Even though I haven’t gone out, Even though no one’s spending it with me, Somehow, this Christmas isn’t so lonely.
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