'Twas the night before Christmas,
and all through the mall,
Not a creature was idle,
shoppers least of all;
The merchandise was placed
in the windows with care,
In hopes that great sale shoppers
soon would be there.
The parents were hoping to keep out of the red,
While visions of tax returns danced in their heads;
And Ma in her overcoat and Pa in his fleece,
Headed to the mall despite a tight winter squeeze.
When out from the women's wear, there arose such a clatter,
We looked up from our wares to see what was the matter.
Away to the sales rack we flew like a flash, Tore off the clothing and paid it with cash.
The moms with kids were all in tow,
The stores were all aglow,
When all at once he suddenly appeared,
A fat old man with a great white beard!
With all the bustle so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment it was just a trick.
Ten bucks for a photo, on the lap of a man?
Better to catch bargains and shop while we can!
"Now Visa! now Mastercard! and American Express!
On Discover, on bank cards, on personal checks!
To the front of the line, to the front of the store!
I want it all! And I want it more!"
As we marched to the car with bags in our hands,
We were startled to see a hungry old man.
As he watched us walk past, down his face rolled a tear.
His clothes were dull rags, and no one drew near.
And suddenly, we felt so ashamed.
The fake glow from the stores had already waned.
For here was someone who reminded us so dear,
Of One who had come to end all our fear.
And lo! Above the mounting spectacle of greed,
Shone a bright star for all to take heed;
That Christmas is more than material things,
It is JESUS who we celebrate, and the joy that He brings.
Last edited by God's Warrior on Wed Apr 18, 2007 9:12 pm; edited 3 times in total
Befana the Housewife, scrubbing her pane,
Saw three old sages ride down the lane,
Saw three gray travelers pass her door-
Gaspar, Balthazar, Melchior.
"Where journey you, sirs?" she asked of them.
Balthazar answered, "To Bethlehem,
For we have news of a marvelous thing
Born in a stable is Christ the King."
"Give Him my welcome!"
Then Gaspar smiled,
"Come with us, mistress, to greet the Child."
"Oh, happily, happily would I fare,
Were my dusting through and I'd polished the stair."
Old Melchior leaned on his saddle horn.
"Then send but a gift to the small Newborn."
"Oh, gladly, gladly I'd send Him one,
Were the hearthstone swept and my weaving done.
As soon as ever I've baked my bread,
I'll fetch Him a pillow for His head.
And a coverlet too," Befana said.
"When the rooms are aired and the linen dry,
I'll look at the Babe."
But the Three rode by.
She worked for a day and a night and a day,
Then, gifts in her hands, took up her way.
But she never could find
where the Christ Child lay.
And still she wanders at Christmastide,
Houseless, whose house was all her pride,
Whose heart was tardy, whose gifts were late,
Wanders, and knocks at every gate,
Crying, "Good people, the bells begin!
Put off your toiling and let love in!"
Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 8:57 pm Post subject: The Last Little Christmas Tree
The Last Little Christmas Tree
Author unknown
I saw a truck of Christmas trees
And each one had a tale,
The driver stood them in a row
And put them up for sale.
He strung some twinkly lights
And hung a sign up with a nail;
"FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES"
It said in red
"FRESH CHRISTMAS TREES FOR SALE."
He poured himself hot cocoa
In a steaming thermos cup,
And snowflakes started falling
As a family car pulled up.
A mom, a dad, and one small boy
Who looked no more than three
Jumped out and started searching
For the perfect Christmas tree.
The boy marched up and down the rows,
His nose high in the air;
"It smells like Christmas, mom!
"It smells like Christmas everywhere!"
"Let's get the biggest tree we can!
"A tree that's ten miles high!
"A tree to go right through our roof!
"A tree to touch the sky!"
"A tree SO big
"That Santa Claus
"Will stop and stare and say,
"'Now, THAT'S the finest Christmas tree
"'I've seen this Christmas Day!'"
It seemed they looked at every tree
At least three million times;
Dad shook them, pinched them, turned them 'round
To find the perfect pine.
"I've found it, mom!
"The Christmas tree I like the best of all!
"It's got a little bare spot,
"But we'll turn that to the wall!"
"We'll put great-grandma's angel
"On top the highest bough!
"Oh, can we buy it?
"Please, mom, PLEASE?!
"Oh, can we buy it NOW?"
"How 'bout some nice hot cocoa?"
Asked the man who owned the lot.
He twisted off the thermos top,
"Now, THIS will hit the spot!"
He poured the steaming chocolate
In three tiny paper cups.
They toasted,
"Here's to Christmas!"
And they drank the cocoa up.
"Is this your choice?"
The tree man asked,
"This pine's the best one here!"
The boy seemed sad---
"My daddy says
"The price is just too dear."
"Then, Merry Christmas!"
Said the man, who wrapped the tree in twine,
"It's yours for just one promise
"You must keep at Christmas time!"
"On Christmas Eve at bedtime
"As you fold your hands to pray,
"Promise in your heart
"To keep the joy of Christmas Day!"
"Now hurry home!
This freezy wind
"Is turning your cheeks pink!
"And ask your dad
"To trim that trunk and give that tree a drink!"
And so it went on
All that blustery eve
As the tree man gave
Tree upon tree upon tree
To every last person
Who came to the lot---
Who toasted with cocoa
In small paper cups,
Who promised the promise
Of joy in their hearts---
And singing out carols,
Drove off in the dark.
And when it was over
One tree stood alone;
But no one was left there
To give it a home.
The tree man put on his
Red parka and hood
And dragged the last Christmas tree
Out to the woods.
He left the pine right by a stream
In the cold,
So the wood's homeless creatures
Could make it their home.
He smiled as he brushed off
Some snow from his beard,
When out of the thicket
A reindeer appeared.
He scratched that huge reindeer
On top his huge head---
"It looks like we've
"Started up Christmas again!"
"There are miles more to travel,
"And much more to do!
"Let's go home, my friend,
"And get started anew!"
He looked to the sky
And heard jingle bells sound---
And then,
In a twinkling,
That tree man was gone!
Last edited by God's Warrior on Wed Apr 18, 2007 9:12 pm; edited 1 time in total
"Daddy," she said, her eyes full of tears, "will you
talk to me and quiet my fears?" Those bad boys at
school are spreading a lie 'bout the impossibility of
reindeer that fly. There's no Santa Claus, they say
with a grin, there's not one now and never has been.
How can one man take all those toys to thousands of
girls and boys? But I told them, Daddy, that they were
not right, that I would come home and find out
tonight. Mama said wait until you get home. Please
tell me now that I was not wrong."
Her daddy looked at her questioning face and puffed
his pipe while his frantic mind raced. He had put
this thing off as long as he could, he had to think
fast and it better be good. Whispering a prayer, he
began with a smile, "Well climb on my lap, dear, let's
talk a while."
"Remember at church how we learned to pray, asking
God to take care of us each day? And you know how
we say grace before each meal? To this same God
whom we know to be real. Though we never see Him,
we know He is there
watching his children with such loving care."
"God started Christmas a long time ago when He gave
us His son to love and to know. A spirit of giving came
with that birth, and God's generosity filled the
whole earth. Man had to name this spirit of giving
just as He names all things that are living."
"The name Santa Claus came to someone's mind
probably the best name of any to find. There is, you
can see, and I think it quite clear, truly a Santa who
visits each year. A spirit like God, whom we never see
he enters the hearts of your mother and me."
Each year at Christmas for one special night we
become him and make everything right. But the REAL
spirit of Christmas is in you and in me, and I hope you
are old enough now to see that as we believe and
continue to give, our friend Santa Claus will continue to live.
Music on Christmas Morning
Anne Bronte (1820-1849)
Music I love--but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine--
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep,
And hours must pass, ere morning break;
From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,
That music KINDLY bids us wake:
It calls us, with an angel's voice,
To wake, and worship, and rejoice;
To greet with joy the glorious morn,
Which angels welcomed long ago,
When our redeeming Lord was born,
To bring the light of Heaven below;
The Powers of Darkness to dispel,
And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
While listening to that sacred strain,
My raptured spirit soars on high;
I seem to hear those songs again
Resounding through the open sky,
That kindled such divine delight,
In those who watched their flocks by night.
With them I celebrate His birth--
Glory to God, in highest Heaven,
Good-will to men, and peace on earth,
To us a Saviour-king is given;
Our God is come to claim His own,
And Satan's power is overthrown!
A sinless God, for sinful men,
Descends to suffer and to bleed;
Hell MUST renounce its empire then;
The price is paid, the world is freed,
And Satan's self must now confess
That Christ has earned a RIGHT to bless:
Now holy Peace may smile from heaven,
And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:
The captive's galling bonds are riven,
For our Redeemer is our king;
And He that gave his blood for men
Will lead us home to God again.
The shepherds went their hasty way,
And found the lowly stable-shed
Where the Virgin-Mother lay:
And now they checked their eager tread,
For to the Babe, that at her bosom clung,
A Mother's song the Virgin-Mother sung.
They told her how a glorious light,
Streaming from a heavenly throng.
Around them shone, suspending night!
While sweeter than a mother's song,
Blest Angels heralded the Savior's birth,
Glory to God on high! and Peace on Earth.
She listened to the tale divine,
And closer still the Babe she pressed:
And while she cried, the Babe is mine!
The milk rushed faster to her breast:
Joy rose within her, like a summer's morn;
Peace, Peace on Earth! the Prince of Peace is born.
Thou Mother of the Prince of Peace,
Poor, simple, and of low estate!
That strife should vanish, battle cease,
O why should this thy soul elate?
Sweet Music's loudest note, the Poet's story,
Didst thou ne'er love to hear of fame and glory?
And is not War a youthful king,
A stately Hero clad in mail?
Beneath his footsteps laurels spring;
Him Earth's majestic monarchs hail
Their friends, their playmate! and his bold bright eye
Compels the maiden's love-confessing sigh.
Tell this in some more courtly scene,
To maids and youths in robes of state!
I am a woman poor and mean,
And wherefore is my soul elate.
War is a ruffian, all with guilt defiled,
That from the aged father's tears his child!
A murderous fiend, by fiends adored,
He kills the sire and starves the son;
The husband kills, and from her board
Steals all his widow's toil had won;
Plunders God's world of beauty; rends away
All safety from the night, all comfort from the day.
Then wisely is my soul elate,
That strife should vanish, battle cease:
I'm poor and of low estate,
The Mother of the Prince of Peace.
Joy rises in me, like a summer's morn:
Peace, Peace on Earth! The Prince of Peace is born!
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