In frosty fields where tracks are spun, A boy and dog set forth for fun, Their breath a mist in morning light, Adventure calls with pure delight. The carols hum through needles pine, A Christmas car on winding line, Inside a warmth of tales retold, A Tinseltown in blankets' fold. And in this fleeting, star-bright span, A mother’s touch, a guiding hand, With gentle whispers, soft and true, They map the ways in which love grew. From bounding boy to mother’s care, In every joy and every prayer, The paths we trace, so deeply trod, Are alive with love, a gift from God.