Secret Santa

The Secret Santa shop came to school
That year. My eight year-old hands trembled
As I saw the necklace cradled so softly
In a tiny box of black velvet.
A vee of gold culminated in blinding diamonds
More dizzying than love itself.
I knew it was the perfect gift for you.
As I paid the five dollars, my fingers
Itched to touch the beauty and brilliance
That I had bought for you.
Feverishly I brought it home, caressing
Its invaluable preciousness with silent glee
As I wrapped it as carefully as I could.
On Christmas morning, you opened
My gift, exclaiming in surprise. But the days
Passed, and you never wore it. It was
Relegated to your jewelry box, and eventually,
The years caused the gold to dim,
And finally turn green. And I grew older,
My joy somehow dimming too,
Finally understanding the diamonds weren't
Like that you were used to,
Just cheap zirconia. And in perhaps
The same way, the years caused
My own brilliance
To grow old and die, and I saw the necklace
With an adult's eyes:
A cheap trinket designed
To capitalize on a child's affection.
And I wondered if perhaps that is why
I wasn't quite a child that you would wear,
That I veed into something strange
And unrecognizable
And you eventually relegated me
To the forgotten jewelry box of your heart.
I changed from a smiling, laughing girl
To a woman pensive and full of tears
And problems. But I loved you.
And I remember so vividly
How I burned with only a child's desire
To be your Secret Santa,
And to give you
Something truly beautiful for Christmas.