Just Folks

The Day of Days

          A year is filled with glad events:
            The best is Christmas day,
          But every holiday presents
            Its special round of play,
          And looking back on boyhood now
            And all the charms it knew,
          One day, above the rest, somehow,
            Seems brightest in review.
          That day was finest, I believe;
            Though many grown-ups scoff,
          When mother said that we could leave
            Our shoes and stockings off.

          Through all the pleasant days of spring
            We begged to know once more
          The joy of barefoot wandering
            And quit the shoes we wore;
          But always mother shook her head
            And answered with a smile:
          "It is too soon, too soon," she said.
            "Wait just a little while."
          Then came that glorious day at last
            When mother let us know
          That fear of taking cold was past
            And we could barefoot go.

          Though Christmas day meant much to me,
            And eagerly I'd try
          The first boy on the street to be
            The Fourth day of July,
          I think: the summit of my joy
            Was reached that happy day
          Each year, when, as a barefoot boy,
            I hastened out to play.
          Could I return to childhood fair,
            That day I think I'd choose
          When mother said I needn't wear
            My stockings and my shoes.