My mother used to take me to
Department stores to window shop
Where many things appeared in view
That made a little fellow stop
And gaze upon the wonders that
Were wonder-some indeed to see,
Where I would stand and still look at
A decorated Christmas tree.
Among the wonders I’d behold
Was one with Christmas balls galore,
With tinsel silvery and gold,
The pride of the Department store.
Now, it so happened on one day
When I was walking down an aisle
I took a Christmas ball away
That I’d been eyeing for awhile.
I slipped it surreptitiously
Into the pocket of my coat,
And took it home where I could see
It, bending over it to gloat.
Somehow my mother recognized
The Christmas ball, where it was from,
And being really scandalized
Back to the store she made me come.
Well, ever since that time I knew
Of anything I’d have to take,
What afterward I’d have to do
Was restoration of it make.
Whatever it would mean it meant
A lot for me to draw the line
Which Mom did in that incident
Between what was and wasn’t mine.
An Early Lesson
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