As one grows older, Christmas becomes more a time for past memories than for present celebration. Faces and voices of loved ones long gone crowd into consciousness, and those left behind reminisce over Christmases past.
They bring back to memory those happy days of yore
Gone are the old folk, the house stands deserted
No light in the window, no welcome at the door
Here’s where they sailed their wee boats on the burn
Where are they now? some are dead, some have wandered
No more to their home will the children return
The children have scattered, the old folk are gone
Why stand I here, like a ghost or a shadow?
’tis time I was movin’, ‘tis time I passed on.”