Family shares sweet Christmas tale
Everything seemed so peaceful.
It was Christmas Eve 2004. Spokane resident Katie Youngren, a part-time STA bus driver and part-time poet, was relaxing at home with her visiting parents, Darrell and Kathy Jones.
Darrell Jones, who runs the Donut Parade on North Hamilton Street, was still wearing his work clothes. He’d had a long day making doughnuts. He sat down in a rocking chair for a snooze, surrounded by his loving family.
At his feet dozed a golden retriever named George.
Then George lifted his head. He smelled something. It was frosting. It was … doughnut frosting. Darrell Jones’ shoelaces were slathered with the stuff from his day at the bakery.
Youngren immortalized the ensuing events in a poem:
Sugarplum Shoelaces
‘Twas the eve before Christmas
As we sat with my folks
Sharing Christmas memories
By the fireplace, well-stoked.
Our beloved pup George
Sitting at Grandpa’s feet
Had picked up a scent
So yummy and sweet.
Grandpa made doughnuts
And other sweet treats
And sometimes the frosting
Dripped onto his feets.
And George, whose nose
Was like a retriever’s
Was one of the best
Of perceptive perceivers.
So, he started to lick
Upon Grandpa’s shoelaces
With nary a notice
From anyone’s faces,
Enjoying a treat like
He never had known.
Even better than that
Of a juicy steak bone.
Alas, as festivities
Came to a close,
And up from the rocking chair
Grandpa arose,
He noticed his shoes
Had become a bit loose
And the laces resembled
A shredded up noose!
As we all stared in wonder
At the curious sight,
George sat licking his chops
With delicious delight.
Uproarious laughter then
Filled the whole house
Stirring the neighbors
(and even their mouse),
Adding yet one more memory
To our Christmas past list
For our future gatherings
around Yuletide bliss.
As for Christmas gift-giving
Our dear George surely knows
The best presents don’t come
Wrapped in ribbons and bows.
‘Tis the love and togetherness
Of family and friends,
And good news that in heaven
Our gatherings won’t end.
Yes, George truly loved
Sitting at Grandpa’s feet,
The company, and of course,
His heavenly treat,
For no kibble, no cake,
No cookie replaces
Grandpa’s delectable
Sugarplum laces.
Katie Youngren