It might have been this very same road.
That cold and snowy dayWe drove to
Grandma's house for Christmas.
It was around the bend and through a gate,
The farm not far from home.
For dinner and Christmas presents.
It might have been the warmest house around.
The door was opened wide,
Our feet to clear the snow from boots.
It was my mother's mom who hugged us all.
The table was beautiful;
Sit down, we'll eat when everyone's here.
It might have been the loving hands- known
recipes passed down.
Pass the turkey round, have some taters.
It was perhaps the finest meal of the year,
Fresh food grown nearby.
There's pie or cake, be sure and have dessert.
It might have been the time to nap but there
The tree stood shining,
Underneath were gifts wrapped lovingly for us.
It was time for ooh's and aah's as we opened
Boxes filled by love.
Grandma's house for Christmas again next year.