A Christmas memory

Just a team of horses,

a rancher and a sleigh.

Five hundred miles from Colorado, 

Southwest Wyoming way.

A holiday tradition,

our families gather there.

Kids and dogs and packages, 

everything everywhere.

Four daughters and their families,

stuffed inside his home.

Some patience on his part,

he’s used to living alone.

Up early in the morning,

coffee, news, breakfast on.

Time to rally the troops,

“little darlings” it’s way past dawn.

He’s getting a bit antsy now,

the team is feeling it too.

But Jace needs mittens, Teisha a coat,

“Come on I got things to do.”

The team harnessed and hooked,

the runners all broke loose.

The kids’ sleds strung out behind,

like a little caboose.

We swing into the field 

and catch the snow-packed road.

West to the upper stack

to get ourselves a load. 

The gate is left wide open,

we’re coming back this way.

It’s Christmas Eve, a double feed,

so we can celebrate the next day. 

Jingling of the tug chains,

a long trot for the shed.

Sledding, laughing, caroling,

the cows have all been fed. 

Sweated horses, frozen hands,

everything’s been put away.

He gave the horse a gentle pat 

and filled the manger with hay. 

He paused there for a moment.

“Papa, why did you stop and stare?” 

“Well, in my mind I thought 

I saw baby Jesus lying there.”

“Kinda got me thinking 

’bout that baby’s humble birth,

on a dark and holy night

that forever changed the Earth.” 

I may have been a little girl,

but the memory lives to this day.

Just a team of horses,

my grandpa and a sleigh.

– Written by George and Hannah Bugas 

Inspired by Tanaye Carroll-Maez, a wife, mother, granddaughter, physical therapist, UW graduate and tough cowgirl