When I mixed with the shoppers and fought in vain
To get what I sought, in the Christmas rush;
When they stood on my toes in the crowded train,
Or dented my ribs in the sidewalk crush,
I dropped my manners and snarled and swore,
And thought: "It's a bothersome, beastly bore!"
But when, at the Christmas dawn, they brought
My kid to the room where his things were piled,
And when, from my vantage point, I caught
The look on his face, I murmured: "Child,
Your dad was a fool when he snarled and swore,
And called it a bothersome, beastly bore."