On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me...
|"Three French Hens" by Dylan Meconis|
A clutch of them chirped and stared
Their beady black eyes up in the air
They watched as goslings did
Until their mother came and they fed.
Not the hardened corn spread,
But the warm milk that was heaven's sent.
It was upon each Christmas day
That a glass would be put by the hay
Left for the father rooster and pheasants
Who would leave the most wonderful presents
So in the morning they would say,
“I have three french hens in the hay.”
They would one day pluck their feathers
Shedding their younger years away
To have goslings of their own
And repeat this very same day.
For it is in the Christmas spirit to pass on
The story for many more generations to come.
So a clutch of them chirped and stared
Their beady eyes up in the air
And they watched like goslings did
At their mother every single year.
Question: "What traditions do you pass on to your younger generations?"