A Christmas Gift
Inspired by a humanitarian act witnessed by Ray J. Whittier, "A Christmas Gift" became the basis of and the title poem for his first self-published book.
"A Christmas Gift" is a collection of holiday poems from the lived life, heart, mind, and eyes of Lynn Poet Laureate, Ray J. Whittier. These poems capture classic snowy December New England coastal tales and the subtle and simple moments all year round that embody the spirit of Christmas.
These recordings were found and remastered after Ray's passing in June 2024. They capture just a few of the hundreds of poems found in the pages of his self-published book, "A Christmas Gift".
May his words and the sound of his voice bring joy and comfort to the countless friends and loved ones who knew him best. And if you're a stranger listening on a cold, December night nestled by your fire amongst the glow of twinkling lights, we hope you find a friend in them, too.
Merry Christmas.
Dedicated to Shirley Whittier, wife and loving mother of 64 years, and to Raymond and his wife Susan of Stratham, NH, Daniel and his wife Mary Ellen of Stratham, NH, and Mark and his wife Maria of Beverly; his daughters Denise Benevento and her husband Vincent of Stratham, NH, Mary Jean Raimo and her husband Michael of Beverly, Paula Funk and her husband Norman of Chaplin, CT, and Christine Moganelli and her husband Michael of Lynn; his brother John and his wife Karen of Fredericksburg, VA, his sister Judith McBriarty and her late husband John of Milford, NH; his cousins John Caldwell and his wife Clara of Ocean Ridge, FL and Patricia Chadbourne of Lynn; his friend Teddy; and his 20 grandchildren and 16 great-grandchildren.
Created by a loving grandson, who misses his "Grampy Ted".
A Christmas Gift
The Gift
Use Left/Right to seek, Home/End to jump to start or end. Hold shift to jump forward or backward.
Now let me tell you in this season of cheer,
of gifts received throughout the year.
The breeze that turned my whirligig's wings,
carried the fragrance of lilacs in spring.
A tall cluster of tulips, yellow and red,
stout sentinels on their mounded bed.
And the quiet evening when I heard the murmuring note of a cooing bird,
and saw before the light was gone the singer of that evening song.
The red roses in June that came and set my wooded trellis aflame,
that caught and widened the eyes of friends and neighbors passing by.
The sea spray that cooled my heated brow, blown over the rail of a plunging bow.
And the orange sunrise peeking over the bay,
that came up and took my breath away.
A dark night with stars far as I could see,
I made a wish on one winking back at me.
For a starlight shining through time and space
to fall upon my loved one's face.
The snow and smell of burning wood that drifted down to where I stood,
beside the snow capped lantern light, breathing in the beauty of a winter night. Of all gifts given large and small, the one that's greatest of them all
was born in a stable neath a star bright
years ago on that first Christmas night.
