SMALL MIRACLES

by Chris Mercogliano

 

 

First came the light

and then the fish...

On Christmas Eve in

the darkened church

Grandfather's hand quavered

as I lit his communion candle.

"I can see the light!"

cried the old blind man,

and he beamed like a torch

while pretending to conduct the choir

with his Christmas sign.

Joy to the world

The Lord is come

Let earth receive her king,

we all sang together

and joy was one man's

sweet candlelit face.

 

Early next morning,

the shocked child

found her orange-gold carp

lying still on the kitchen floor;

scales crispy, sunken eyes remote.

"Why is this happening today?"

she gasped out with grief.

Praying for help,

(yes, for a pet goldfish)

I placed the fish back

in its water and swished it

back and f orth, back and forth.

Hope was scarcely in the room,

when all of a sudden

it began to breathe on its own

and broke free from my grasp!

... First came the light

and then the fish.

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