The Story of the Wreath
by Mike Moutoux, Western Entertainer & Cowboy Poet

“What are you doing Christmas Eve? The wife said I should check.
“We’d like to have you down----a nice meal I expect.”
The cowboy took the invitation and said to count him in
For sure his plans for Christmas were looking sorta thin.

On the way he realized he’d brought nothing with him to share
Besides coffee, flour, sugar and beans his cupboards all were bare
The nearest town was across rough roads—sixty miles or more
So there wasn’t time to buy a gift and he was feeling kind of poor

 As he rode, he got an idea—started looking ‘round
He’d make a wreath from his throwin’ rope and any greenery he found
It was juniper and sage he used tied on with piggin’ string
With conchos from his saddle, it made a lovely thing

Well, that wreath was sure a big surprise and hung without delay
When the husband saw how it was made, he didn’t know what to say
His friend had used a fine manila rope to make the Christmas wreath
So while his wife admired the smell---he prized what lay beneath

That wreath was part of Christmas and hung for all Decembers
A symbol of a kindness that long would be remembered
And when the cowboy moved away to start a family of his own
They stayed in touch by mail, occasionally by phone

As the years spun round and round, the wreath reminded all
Of a Christmas long ago when a cowboy came to call
And left behind a homemade gift you’d never find in any store
Some greenery tied to a throwin’ rope that means a whole lot more

The ranchers told their children the story of the wreath
Let their grandkids touch the conchos and the coiled rope beneath 
And each year the gift was freshened with new sage and pungent pine
So that kindness graced the ranch house door for a very long, long time