A parent carefully keeps a few small objects: a little toy, a faded sock, a lock of golden hair. These are Christmas treasures, but they belong to a child who is no longer there. The speaker remembers the holiday years ago when their little boy, dressed in white, sat on their knee and asked Santa for that very toy. Full of innocent trust, he hung his stocking by the chimney and said his prayers. That night, the speaker imagines, angels visited and kissed the sleeping child. By morning, the toy was in the stocking, bringing pure joy.
Then one Christmas, the angels came again—but this time they took the child away. Now the sock, the toy, and the curl of hair are all that remain. The house is filled with Christmas music and waiting, but the boy is gone. Still, the speaker clings to a gentle hope: if the angels return one day to bring them to eternity, the long watch will at last find its reward. The mood is quiet, tender, and deeply sorrowful, yet it holds a fragile comfort in the thought of reunion.