A Star from Mila

Mila has made stars,
a whole basket full.
One for everyone.
But who, exactly, is everyone?

One fits the jumper just right.
For Mila?
No. Back in the basket.
The others come first.
That’s how it goes with presents.

A star for Mama.
That one is easy.
Carefully, carefully …
The bow is on!
Now the teacup is decorated.

Outside, everyone is further away.
Coat, hat, mittens.
Mama wraps the yellow scarf. Three times round.
“So the neck stays warm.”
The basket comes along.

A star for Papa.
That one is easy too.
Now it sits on the hat
and helps with shovelling snow.

A star for the birds.
That is harder:
birds would rather have seeds.
So they get both.

Flutter, flutter. The robin!
It hops onto the basket. It tugs a straw.
“Do you want to make one too?”
Peep!
Off it flies with the straw.

A star for the snowman.
And something warm for his neck!
Mila wraps the own scarf around him.
There. Now the snowman has both.

A cold neck. A little.
But the snowman is warm now.
Papa turns up the collar.
Only one left in the basket.
For whom?

Across the road a window is lit.
A star on the door handle.
Quietly, quietly.
Papa waits at the gate.
And quickly back!

Back to Papa. Quick, behind the coat!
There: the door opens. Just a crack.
A hand. The star is gone.
“Merry Christmas!” someone calls.
Mila calls back, softly.

The basket is empty.
And for Mila? No star left.
Or is there?
“That one up there. That one is for me!”
“The biggest,” says Mama. “Of course.”