Christmas Verse

i didn't want to write a poem when i first read of it here and here.
i do want to write one now, remembrances from my childhood Christmases and summers, inextricably linked in my memories.

the original poem is here. there are a few suggested rules, most of which i didn't follow.
please join in if you'd like, i'd love to read where you're from.

Where I'm From
I am from Mum's homemade Christmas Mince Pies, from rich scents of cinnamon and sultanas wafting through the house on a midsummer's eve, from a silver tinsel tree propped in the lounge window, from the tiny wooden nativity scene in pride of place on the side table.

I am from running outside to hear trumpets and Christmas Carols blasting from the Salvation Army Truck, from annual church visits on Christmas morning, from opening my mouth so wide during the hallelujah chorus that I started to yawn.

I am from Joyeux Noël and don't peep in Mum's wardrobe or I might not be surprised.

I am from letters to Santa scribed hopefully on the blackboard, from beer and mince pies left out as swapsies, from sock-hunting in Dad's drawer and Away in a Manger, from waking in the middle of the night to reassure myself that Father Christmas indeed knew of a little girl named Katie, and had remembered her.

I am from gathering aunties and cousins and grandparents and breathlessly waiting to open presents at family Christmas parties, from roast lamb and ham and sausages on the barbie, from pavlovas and fruit salad, from playing backyard cricket in the park next door and swinging under the oak tree.

I am from craggy Pohutukawa trees clinging to cliffs which overlook golden beaches and children sifting through the sands for precious treasures, from endless summer barbecues and the waves coming in, drifting off to sleep after sun-drenched days, salt in my blonde-streaked tresses, pink pungent oil of ulan soothing sunburn, a head full of surf.

I am from three week holidays at Great Barrier Island, from sunbathing on the deck of Banyanda and long-sleeved muslin shirts and jandals, from learning to sail in the dinghy and trawling for kahawai, from seasick and D-sick, and swimming once around the boat before breakfast.

I am from Joy to the World, from Silent Night, Holy Night, from choruses and harmonies and three part rounds, from stingrays in nets and eating up the Christmas cake for a month, from sleep-ins while parents picked "rock mushrooms", from tenting ashore and growing up under the stars.

I am from the summers of childhood innocence: all is calm, all is bright.