Amorel Sterne

Xmas

Appearing in the December 24, 1908 African-American newspaper The New York Age, this might be the first published poem of Amorel Elizabeth Sterne O’Kelly Cooke (c. 1881-1927). It might also be autobiographical, as the 1910 U.S. Census shows she had three deceased children at that time, and four living. Part of her 1909 “Christmas Time” poem for the same paper also referenced death in the family. In 1918 she would become the founding president of the Women’s Volunteer Service League, a branch of the Newark, N.J. mayor’s committee of the Woman’s Council of National Defense that provided a five-story building as a canteen and school for soldiers and sailors, and to teach technical trades to young women.

It is Xmas time and my heart is sore,

And my eyes are dim with tears.

For ’twas Xmas time in the days of yore

That my heart grew sick with fears.

 

When the yule-­tide comes and the clean New Year

When over the earth falls the snow,

And the merry bells of the sleigh we hear,

I think of just two years ago.

 

For ’twas Xmas time and Santa Claus came,

And the presents he brought us all,

For brother a wagon and sister a game

And baby a rattle and ball.

 

And dear little Madeline a pair of shoes,

And a dolly with golden hair,

And a tiny tea set, a silver cup,

And a cute little “Teddy Bear.”

 

And the child was filled with a great delight,

And her dimpled sweet face so fair

With a smile unearthly would seem to light,

As she cried, “See my Teddy Bear.”

 

And “Yook at my ’hoes. Oh! mamma, see,

Des ’ou yook at my pitty tup;

Ole Tanta Taus he binged ’em to me

And I don’t want to put ’em up.”

 

But right in the midst of our mirth and zest

A spectre stood outside the door;

A grim unwelcome, an unbidden guest,

His shadow cast over the floor.

 

And sick grew our child and a fever burned

On her brow, and her pulse was great,

Yet all of the while for her toys she yearned,

And so patiently bore her fate.

 

I worked and we prayed, and the Doctor came;

He looked and gravely shook his head,

“You are very sick, my dear little child,

But we’ll do what we can,” he said.

 

As I bent o’er the child she smiled at me,

And a great fear did seize my heart.

And I said, “Oh Dear Christ, it cannot be

That my darling and I must part!”

 

And then, when the snow fell over the earth,

All over the land far and wide,

And the clean-­shaven New Year had found its birth,

My darling called “Mama!” and died.

 

We folded her hands o’er her little breast,

And my heart grew cold as stone;

And I told the children she’d gone to rest;

The Master had taken His own.

 

And so in the Springtime another He sent

To warm up my heart icy cold—

A dear little Angel He graciously lent

From out His cherubeum fold

 

It is Xmas time and my heart is sore,

And broken with grief and pain;

That grim-­visaged spectre has crouched at my door,

Reflecting his shadow again.

 

And now he has taken my Angel child

And left me in Rachel-­like woe,

And the Xmas tide brings but tears to me

And sorrows that overflow.