Christmas Eve (Dave Molinari)

Grandma made noodles on Christmas Eve
topped with fried bread crumbs, they were too poor for cheese
Red sauce with bacala, ladled on last
No other meal could surpass

Round about five o’clock, when the doorbell would ring
I’d dash down the hallway to let them in
And there in my Grandmother’s hands was a bowl
covered in tin foil that sparkled with snow

I carefully brought it to mother,
while Grandma was wiping her feet
Then Grandfather gave me the other,
always more than we’d eat

Then everyone came to the dining room table
Grandfather sent up the prayer
Then one by one we passed our plates down to Grandma,
who told the same story each year:

“My mama made noodles on Christmas Eve
topped with fried bread crumbs, we were too poor for cheese
Red sauce with bacala, ladled on last
But that was the old country, so far in the past…

We were so glad to leave for America,
when we sailed out from Naples that day
We left all of our hard work and poverty there to stay”

Then Grandma sat down and we all grew so quiet,
savoring this annual dish.
And subtly leaning, I whispered to Grandma
and told her my one Christmas wish…

“I’ll learn to make noodles on Christmas Eve,
topped with fried bread crumbs, you were too poor for cheese
Red sauce with bacala, ladled on last”
No other meal could surpass those noodles
with breadcrumbs on Christmas Eve

©2000 David Molinari