Today is the 25th of the month. It’s Christmas in October, did you catch it?

Here’s a poem (a song, actually) that Mom wrote in April of 1957. Harry was nearly two and Dave just a month old. How Mom had time to think, much less create such a sweet lullaby, is truly beyond me!

The Wonderful World of Downstairs

The wonderful world of downstairs
has ice cream every day;
The wonderful world of downstairs is where my animals play.

I will walk on tiptoe,
look around to see
which one of my teddy bears
is peeking out at me.

The wonderful world of downstairs
has windows in the sun;
the wonderful world of downstairs
has blocks and balls for fun.

When I go to sleep at night,
and Mommy tucks me in:
“bless the wonderful world of downstairs”
is how my prayers begin.
– by Joan Vayo, April 1957

The photo, above, shows us a few years later, when we lived in Milford, Connecticut. Recollections of that house are foggy in my brain, but I do remember the beautiful playroom. It’s what I picture when Mom’s sweet song echoes in my memory.

“The Wonderful World of Downstairs” © 1957 Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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