Almost Time for Christ-mas
by Joyce Wilde

It is a almost time for Christ-mas
And everyone is gay
Wishing each other the joys
They feel in their hearts today

I have much joy in my heart
And thanks and gratitude, too,
For my many, many friends And the things you say and do.

The Lord gives all of us trials
Hoping to make us strong,
And without the help of each other
We would probably all go wrong.

This year is closing much brighter
Than at one time I thought it might.
It has been your thoughts and faith and prayers
That are helping to make things right.
The Lord has heard your petitions,
My life has been spared for a time.
I am grateful for all of your prayers,
And to Him who has listened to mine.

Adversity must come to all,
But it is easier to understand
When things have turned out right again,
That the Lord did have a plan.

We all need to be reminded
We agreed to the joy and the pain
That must be suffered in this life
So we could live with Him again.

So at this Christ-mas season,
Since we've received the plan from above,
Let's put second the things of the world
And start with the Savior's gift of love.





Before the Paling of the Stars
by Christina Rossetti

Before the paling of the stars,
Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock-crow
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Cradled in a manger,
In the world His hands had made
Born a stranger.

Priest and King lay fast asleep
In Jerusalem,
Young and old lay fast asleep
In crowded Bethlehem:
Saint and Angel, ox and ass,
Kept a watch together,
Before the Christ-mas daybreak
In the winter weather.

Jesus on his mother's breast
In the stable cold,
Spotless Lamb of God was He
Shepherd of the fold:
Let us kneel with Mary Maid,
With Joseph bent and hoary,
With Saint and Angel, ox and ass,
To hail the King of Glory.





The Birth Of The King
Given This 25th Day Of December, 1996, to His Servant
David Heischman, Under The Inspiration Of The Holy Spirit

Today is Christ-mas; be blessed and be well
And remember The Gift Of Emanuel
We who were lost and so undone
Did He rescue from death by sending His Son
God The Father Who Is Seated Above
Gave us His Best with Eternal Great Love
He is no longer The Tiny Babe In A Manger
But Is Lord Of Heaven, Who To Us Is No Stranger
This Tiny Young Infant Who Was Born In A Stable
Now Reigns In His Glory To Make Us Able
To Endure His Suffering And Much Persecution
As His Blood Was Shed; Our Only Solution
He Has Sent His Blessed Holy Spirit
To Teach Us His Will Through His Word; Can You Hear It?
To you and your house are His Promises given
As we walk through this life, each day that we're living
So open your heart that you might receive
And do not doubt, but only believe
That He Will Do What All He Has Said
As you rise to your feet and lie down on your bed
Oh Merciful Jesus; Full Of Love And Grace
May I share Your Story as I walk in this place
To a world all broken and full of strife
That they too might inherit Eternal Life
And if I'm imprisoned you are with me there
And I'll walk with You as You allow me to share
Your Forgiveness And Pardon That Souls Might Be Freed
As You Hear Their Prayers At Their Very Need
Son on This Day do I Praise Your Name
As You Touch Me To Never Be The Same
And as I'm Filled With Your Spirit And Blessed With Cheer
May I Shine Forth Your Light through the next coming year.





Christ-mas
W.H. Davies

Christ-mas has come, let's eat and drink
This is no time to sit and think;
Farewell to study, books and pen,
And welcome to all kinds of men.
Let all men now get rid of care,
Then 'tis the same, no matter which
Of us is poor, or which is rich.
Let each man have enough this day,
Since those that can are glad to pay;
There's nothing now too rich or good
For poor men, not the King's own food.
Now like a singing bird my feet
Touch earth, and I must drink and eat.
Welcome to all men: I'll not care
What any of my fellows wear;
We'll not let cloth divide our souls,
They'll swim stark naked in the bowls.
Welcome, poor beggar: I'll not see
That hand of yours dislodge a flea,
While you sit at my side and beg,
Or right foot scratching your left leg.
Farewell restraint: we will not now
Measure the ale our brains allow,
But drink as much as we can hold.
We'll count no change when we spend gold;
This is not time to save, but spend
To give for nothing, not to lend.
Let foes make friends: let them forget
The mischief-making dead that fret
the living with complaint like this,
"He wronged us once, hate him and his.."
Christ-mas has come; let every man
Eat, drink, be merry all he can.
Ale's my best mark, but if port wine
Or whisky's yours -- let it be mine;
No matter what lies in the bowls,
We'll make it rich with our own souls.
Farewell to study, books and pen,
And welcome to all kinds of men.





Christ-mas
by Jay Miller

Lost in all this glitter, lies a gift that none can earn.
Seasons come and seasons go,
But through the years I've learned,
To be thankful;
And to be grateful,
For no gift I've ever seen,
Can replace the gift of Christ for Christ-mas,
Or what this season really means





Christ-mas Carol
by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Ring out, ye bells!
All Nature swells
With gladness of the wondrous story,
The world was lorn,
But Christ is born
To change our sadness into glory.

Sing, earthlings, sing!
To-night a King
hath come from heaven's high throne to bless us.
The outstretched hand
O'er all the land
Is raised in pity to caress us.

Come at His call;
Be joyful all;
Away with mourning and with sadness!
The heavenly choir
With holy fire
Their voices raise in songs of gladness.

The darkness breaks
And Dawn awakes,
Her cheeks suffused with youthful blushes.
The rocks and stones
In holy tones
Are singing sweeter than the thrushes.

Then why should we
In silence be,
When Nature lends her voice to praises;
When heaven and earth
Proclaim the truth
Of Him for whom that lone star blazes?

No, be not still,
But with a will
Strike all your harps and set them ringing;
On hill and heath
Let every breath
Throw all its power into singing!





Christ-mas Day In The Workhouse
by George R. Sims

It is Christ-mas day in the workhouse, and the cold, bare walls are bright
With garlands of green and holly, and the place is a pleasant sight;
For with clean-washed hands and faces in a long and hungry line
The paupers sit at the table, for this is the hour they dine.

And the guardians and their ladies, although the wind is east,
Have come in their furs and wrappers to watch their charges feast;
To smile and be condescending, putting on pauper plates.
To be hosts at the workhouse banquet they've paid for-with the rates.

0, the paupers are meek and lowly with their 'Thank'ee kindly, mums'
So long as they fill their stomachs what matter it whence it comes?
But one of the old men mutters and pushes his plate aside,
'Great God" he cries, "but it chokes me; for this is the day she died!"

The guardians gazed in horror, the master's face went white;
"Did a pauper refuse their pudding? Could that their ears believe aright?"
Then the ladies clutched their husbands, thinking the man would die,
Struck by a bolt, or something, by the outraged One on high.

But the pauper sat for a moment, then rose 'mid silence grim,
For the others had ceased to chatter and trembled in every limb:
He looked at the guardians' ladies, then, eyeing their lords, he said;
"I eat not the food of villains whose hands are foul and red;

Whose victims cry for vengeance from their dark, unhallowed graves."
"He's drunk," said the workhouse master, "or else he's mad and raves."
"Not drunk or mad," cried the pauper, "but only a haunted beast,
Who, tom by the hounds and mangled, declines the vulture's feast.

"I care not a curse for the guardians, and I won't be dragged away;
Just let me have the fit out, it's only on Christ-mas Day
That the black past comes to goad me and prey on my burning brain;
I'll tell you the rest in a whisper-I swear I won't shout again.

"Keep your hands off me, curse you! Hear me right out to the end.
You come here to see how paupers the season of Christ-mas spend;
You come here to watch us feeding, as they watched the captured beast;
Here's why a penniless pauper spits on your paltry feast.

"Do you think I will take your bounty and let you smile and think
You're doing a noble action with the parish's meat and drink?
Where is my wife, you traitors-the poor old wife you slew?
Yes, by the God above me, my Nance was killed by you.

'Last Winter my wife lay dying, starved in a filthy den.
I had never been to the parish-I came to the parish then;
I swallowed my pride in coming! for ere the ruin came
I held up my head as a trader, and I bore a spotless name.

"I came to the parish, craving bread for a starving wife-
Bread for the woman who'd loved me thro' fifty years of life;
And what do you think they told me, mocking my awful grief,
That the house was open to us, but they wouldn't give out relief.

"I slunk to the filthy alley-'twas a cold, raw Christ-mas Eve-
And the bakers' shops were open, tempting a man to thieve;
But I clenched my fists together, holding my head awry,
So I came to her empty-handed and mournfully told her why.

'Then I told her the house was open; she had heard of the ways of that
For her bloodless cheeks went crimson, and up in her rags she sat,
Crying, 'Bide the Christ-mas here, John, we've never had one apart;
I think I can bear the hunger-the other would break my heart.'

'All through that eve I watched her, holding her hand in mine,
Praying the Lord and weeping till my lips were salt as brine;

I asked her once if she hungered, and she answered 'No.'
The moon shone in at the window, set in a wreath of snow.

'Then the room was bathed in glory, and I saw in my darling's eyes
The faraway look of wonder that comes when the spirit flies;
And her lips were parched and parted, and her reason came and went.
For she rav'd of our home in Devon, where our happiest years were spent.

"And the accents, long forgotten, came back to the tongue once more.
For she talked like the country lassie I woo'd by the Devon shore;
Then she rose to her feet and trembled, and fell on the rags and moaned,
And, 'Give me a crust-I'm famished-for the love of God,' she groaned.

"I rushed from the room like a madman and flew to the workhouse gate,
Crying, 'Food for a dying woman!' and the answer came, 'Too late;'
They drove me away with curses; then I fought with a dog in the street
And tore from the mongrel's clutches a crust he was trying to eat.

"Back through the filthy byways! Back through the trampled slush!
Up to the crazy garret, wrapped in an awful hush;
My heart sank down at the threshold, and I paused with a sudden thrill.
For there, in the silv'ry moonlight, my Nance lay cold and still.

'Up to the blackened ceiling the sunken eyes were cast-
I knew on those lips, all bloodless, my name had been the last;
She called for her absent husband-O God! Had I known--
Had called in vain, and, in anguish, had died in that den alone.

"Yes, there in a land of plenty, lay a loving woman dead.
Cruelly starved and murdered for a loaf of the parish bread;
At yonder gate, last Christ-mas, I craved for a human life,
You, who would feed us paupers, what of my murdered wife?

'There, get ye gone to your dinners, don't mind me in the least,
Think of the happy paupers eating your Christ-mas feast-
And when you recount their blessings in your parochial way,
Say what you did for me, too, only last Christ-mas Day."





Christ-mas Eve on the Desert
by Harrison R. Merrill

Tonight, not one alone am I, but three
The Lad I was, the Man I am, and he
Who looks down the coming future years
And wonders at my sloth.
His hopes and fears
Should goad me to the manly game
Of adding to the honor of my name.
I'm fate to him -- that chap that's I grown old,
No matter how much stocks and land and gold
I save for him, he can't buy back a single day
On which I built a pattern for his way.
I, in turn, am product of that boy
Who rarely thought after Selves. His joy
Was in the present. He might have saved me woe
Had he but thought. The ways that I must go
Are his. He marked them all for me
And I must follow - and so must he - My future Self
Unless I save Him! Save Me?
Somehow that word,
Deep down, a precious thought has stirred. Savior?
Yes, I'm savior to that "Me."
That thoughtful After Person whom I see!
The thought is staggering ! I sit and gaze At my two
Other Selves, joint keepers of my days!
Master of Christ-mas,
You dared to bleed and die
That others might find life.
How much more I Should willingly give up my present days
To lofty deeds; seek out the ways
To build a splendid life. I should not fail
To set my feet upon the star-bound trail
For him - that
After Self Tonight, not one alone am I but three
The Lad I was, the Man I am, and he
Who is my future self - nay more
I am his savior - that thought makes me four!
Master of Christ-mas, that Star of Thine shines clear
Bless thou the four of me - out here!





Christ-mas in the Trenches
by John McCutcheon

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool.
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders, to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
'Twas Christ-mas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christ-mas song was sung
Our families back in England were toasting us that day
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!'' each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
"He's singing bloody well, you know!'' my partner says to me
Soon, one by one, each German voice joined in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christ-mas brought us respite from the war
As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
"God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen'' struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was "Stille Nacht.'' "Tis `Silent Night','' says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky
"There's someone coming toward us!'' the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one long figure trudging from their side
His truce flag, like a Christ-mas star, shown on that plain so bright
As he, bravely, strode unarmed into the night
Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's Land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell
We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeezebox and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each prepared to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?''
'Twas Christ-mas in the trenches where the frost, so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone forevermore

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christ-mas come since World War I, I've learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.





Christ-mas Legends
by Davis A. McCarthy

Christ-mas morn, the legends say,
Even the cattle kneel to pray,
Even the beasts of wood and field
Homage to Christ the Savior yield
Horse and cow and woolly sheep
Wake themselves from their heavy sleep,
Bending heads and knees to Him
Who came to earth in a stable dim.
Far away in the forest dark
Creatures timidly wake and hark,
Feathered bird and furry beast
Turn their eyes to the mystic East.
Loud at the dawning, chanticleer
Sounds his note, the rest of the year,
But Christ-mas Eve the whole night long
Honoring Christ, he sings his song.
Christ-mas morn, the legends say,
Even the cattle kneel to pray,
Even the wildest beast afar
Knows the light of the Savior's star.





The Christ-mas List
author unknown

There is a list of folks I know
All written in a book
And every year at Christ-mas time
I go and take a look.
And that is when I realize that
These names are a part
Not of the book they're written in
But of my very heart.

For each name stands for someone
Who has touched my life sometime
And in that meeting they've become
The "rhythm of the rhyme"
I really feel I am a part
Of each remembered name
And while you may not be aware
Of feeling quite the same
My life is so much better
Than it was before you came.

For once you have known someone
The years cannot erase
The memory of a pleasant word
Or of a kindly face
So never think of Christ-mas cards
As just a mere routine
Of names upon a list forgotten in between
For when I send a Christ-mas card
That is addressed to you
It is because you're on that list
Of folks I'm indebted to.

And whether I've known you
For many years or just a few
In some way you have had a part
In shaping things I do.
So every year when Christ-mas comes
I just realize anew
The biggest gift that God can give
Is knowing folks like you.





A Christ-mas Prayer
unknown

Dear Father

It is Christ-mas time again. Help me this year to "season" the
celebration with "reason." Teach me to plan with my family.
May I avoid the clutter that dims my vision and burdens my time.

Keep me mindful of my budget.
and help me to remember that a gift selected with love tugs for-
ever at the heartstrings. Shame me for past extravagance.

Remind me to decorate in good taste, treasuring all of the past
blending it with the new, but holding steadfast to "reason."
Keep me, dear Father, from strain lest I stray from all thy teachings.

Guide me to the "light" of Christ-mas. Help me keep
a candle's flame of that "light" as a constant reminder of my goal--eternity.


I pray for thy love and help, in the name of thy beloved Son
whose birthday we are observing. Amen.





The Christ-mas Spirit
unknown

I am the Christ-mas Spirit


I enter the home of poverty,
causing pale-faced children to open their
eyes wide in pleased wonder.

I cause the miser's clutched hand to relax,
and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.

I cause the aged to renew their youth
and to laugh in the glad old way.

I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood,
and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.

I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways
with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts
amazed at the goodness of the world.

I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild,
wasteful way, and send to anxious love some little token
that releases glad tears -
tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.

I enter dark prison cells,
reminding scarred manhood of what might have been,
and pointing forward to good days yet to come.

I come softly into the still, white home of pain,
and lips that are too weak to speak
just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.

In a thousand ways I
cause the weary world to look up into the face of God
and for a little moment forget the things
that are small and wretched.

I am the Christ-mas Spirit.





The Christ-mas Star
by Judith E. Blackledge

All of Heaven was abuzz,
for the Lord was about to bestow.
A special task on a special star,
above Emmanuel's birthplace to glow!

The brightest and oldest of stars,
gathered to wait for the news.
God appeared, suddenly, to them,
silence and expectation the view.

One little star stayed back,
waiting behind all the rest.
Hallelujah was his name,
since created, trying to be God's best!

Placed so high above the heavens,
his light was dimmed by the miles!
With all he was, he wanted to serve,
to do something special for the Child!

With a countenance of Purest Love,
the Father looked o'er each expectant face.
He started gliding through the clouds,
finally, reaching the chosen place!

Hallelujah, humbly hung his head,
until the Holy Glow hurt his sight!
He slowly looked up at the Creator,
knowing the Father's blessed Might!

"Hallelujah!" God thundered across Heaven!
"You are the one I have chosen!"
Hallelujah couldn't speak a word of thanks,
with untold joy he was frozen!

God laughed, and a million choirs sang!
His Joy touched one and everything!
The order had been granted to serve.
The wonder, his light would surely bring!

The appointed hour had arrived!
Hallelujah was sent to his station!
Giving his all, in love, for the King!
A small part in changing creation!

The Christ-mas star guided so many!
He'd been blessed watching o'er the Babe near!
Mankind had been given another chance.
A new Light born, eliminating grave fears!

© 1996 Judith E. Blackledge judith2@juno.com





The Christ-mas Star
by Beatrice (Bea) Filkins

Once upon a cold winter night in a land very far, far away,
A star shown so warm and bright as though it was midday.
The angels came to sing and upon their gold harps to play
As the Son of God was born in a small stable filled with hay.

The light from the star and the angels made the sky so bright
At first the shepherds on the hillsides were in an awful fright
Until the angels sang, "Peace on earth, good will to all men
For a Savior has been born unto you on this beautiful night."

When the shepherds heard it, they came and fell upon their knee
To worship Jesus Christ, the greatest King they would ever see
Who came from the throne of glory to save sinful you and me.
And show us how to reach heaven where we'll live through eternity.

At the very same time across the earth in another far away land,
Three wisemen came and joined together into a traveling band.
They were carrying gold, frankincense, and myrrh in their hand
To give as gifts for a new Babe who was born across desert sand.

God, the Father, used a bright star to guide each of them that night
To the place where they could see for themselves a wonderful sight.
Many thought the Messiah would be coming in great power and might
But He came as a tiny Babe wrapped up in swaddling clothes so tight.





The Christ-mas
author unknown

Soft, relieved-of-suffering face.
Smooth and shining so gentle.
Looking with reflective eyes,
Weary in body, but spirit still full.
A miracle, a mother, Mary.

Joseph, concerned, sweat-beaded brow,
With love-mellowed wondering eyes,
And attentive manner,
Watching his Mary, a mother.

A miracle, a miracle birth.
Baby born with crumpled, red face,
Moist hair.
New life noises from his fresh, air-filled lungs.

Jesus, this babe, Prince of Peace.
And angels shout, hosannahs at His coming to be Savior.
Healing hands touch blinded eyes,
Darkened spirits, to cleanse sin-weary souls.

Son of the Most High God, deity,
Powerful in virtue,
Able to overcome death,
Command all things.

Master, a loving, forgiving, atoning Master.
Christ pure and clean to give us life.
A miracle, a mother,
This Lord and King,

Baby Jesus





Christ-mas Trees
by Robert Frost

The city had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to the country;

When between whirls of snow not come to lie
And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove

A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,
Yet did in country fashion in that there
He sat and waited till he drew us out
A-buttoning coats, to ask him who he was.
He proved to be the city come again
To look for something it had left behind
And could not do without and keep its Christ-mas.
He asked if I would sell my Christ-mas trees;
My woods--the young fir balsams like a place
Where houses all are churches and have spires.
I hadn't thought of them as Christ-mas trees.
I doubt if I was tempted for a moment
To sell them off their feet to go in cars
And leave the slope behind the house all bare,
Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.
I'd hate to have them know it if I was.
Yet more I'd hate to hold my trees except
As others hold theirs or refuse for them,
Beyond the time of profitable growth--
The trial by market everything must come to.
I dallied so much with the thought of selling.

Then whether from mistaken courtesy
And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether
From hope of hearing good of what was mine,
I said, "There aren't enough to be worth while."

"I could soon tell how many they would cut,
You let me look them over."

"You could look.
But don't expect I'm going to let you have them."
Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close
That lop each other of boughs, but not a few
Quite solitary and having equal boughs
All round and round. The latter he nodded "Yes" to,
Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,
With a buyer's moderation, "That would do."
I thought so too, but wasn't there to say so.
We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,
And came down on the north.

He said, "A thousand."
"A thousand Christ-mas trees--at what apiece"
He felt some need of softening that to me:
"A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars."

Then I was certain I had never meant
To let him have them. Never show surprise!
But thirty dollars seemed so small beside
The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents
(For that was all they figured out apiece),
Three cents so small beside the dollar friends
I should be writing to within the hour
Would pay in cities for good trees like those,

Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools
Could hang enough on to pick off enough.
A thousand Christ-mas trees I didn't know I had
Worth three cents more to give away than sell
As may be shown by a simple calculation.
Too bad I couldn't lay one in a letter.
I can't help wishing I could send you one,
In wishing you here with a Merry Christ-mas.





The Donkey's Story
by Beatrice (Bea) Filkins

Blessed, oh how blessed among all of the donkeys am I
For I'm the one who carried Mary upon my back so wide
Down through valleys deep and over mountains so high
Blessed, oh so blessed among all of the donkeys am I.

Dear sweet little Mary was so heavy laden with child
A dear sweet young maiden who was so meek and mild.
She had always been a good girl and had never run wild.
This dear sweet little Mary was a pure virgin undefiled.

I carried her most carefully both up hill and down.
I carried her all the way up to little Bethlehem town
And after we arrived, I still carried her all around
I carried her most gently over harsh, stony ground

When we arrived, we could find no warm place to stay.
We searched and searched all through the long day
But all we could find was a small stable filled with hay.
At long last, we had found a warm and dry place to lay.

Dear sweet little Mary gave birth to her baby that night.
She bore Him all alone without any struggle or a fight.
Seeing that little boy was a strange and wonderful sight
Lying in the manger wrapped in swaddling clothes so tight.

What I didn't know then was that the child was God's Son
Who'd come from heaven down to earth to redeem everyone
And to provide a way for all of our battles to be won.
He came to show us how much God still loved everyone.

The door then opened to admit both shepherds and kings
And, oh what wonderful gifts and honor they all did bring.
Mary just kept quiet and she pondered all these things
As everyone knelt to worship the mighty King of Kings.

Outside, a star shone brightly and an angel host did sing.
All through the heavens, their rejoicing voices did ring.
Glory to God in the highest was the message they did bring
From one end of earth to the other on their fluffy white wing.

The stable all around with God's great glory was wreathed.
Oh, what a glorious welcome that little baby boy received
Who'd come from heaven to earth to save those who believed
But none knew that night just what greatness He'd achieve.

No one knew that winter night what a miracle He would be
As He made the lame to walk and blind eyes were made to see
Or that He'd come to someday climb all alone up dark Calvary
To open the gate for the spirits of mankind to enter into eternity.

Every word of this little story is true for I was standing there
Because I had spent my life carrying dear Mary everywhere.
I carried her ever so gently and with such tender loving care
As the mother of God's Son, she was a great blessing to bear.

Oh, how wonderfully blessed among all the donkeys am I
Who got to see baby Jesus with my own two brown eyes.
What a fabulous baby He was who never did fuss or cry
I couldn't be more blessed no matter how hard I might try





The First Christ-mas
Author Unknown

'Twas the first night of Christ-mas a long time ago,
the hillside was peaceful, the moon was aglow.
The world couldn't know from what happened before,
that men would remember this night evermore.

The sheep on the hillside, their days journey over,
were dreaming sweet dreams of a field full of clover.
The shepherds were watchful while guarding their flock,
the earth was their pillow, the stars were their clock.
Then all of a sudden, they jumped at the sight,
of the sky all ablaze with a heavenly light.
They huddled in fear, then they started to rise,
as the lightening-like flash tore open the skies.
The heavens were split by the silvery ray,
the dark disappeared and the night became day.
And lo, at the end of the rainbow of light,
appeared then an angel to banish their fright.

The angel brought news of a birth in a manger,
and bade them to hasten to welcome the stranger.
For Mary had just given birth to a boy,
whose coming would bring so much comfort and joy.
A choir of angels looked down from the sky,
and heavenly voices were heard from on high:
Peace be on earth and good will to all men,
the Savior has come on this night, Amen.

The heavenly angels then faded from sight,
the sky once again turned from day to night.
The shepherds all quietly rose from the ground,
and hurried to go where the child would be found.
As they reached Bethlehem and the inn was in sight,
from the barn came a trickle of half-hidden light.
It led like a path to a soft little bed,
and shone very tenderly on a child's head.

The child in the manger was sleeping so sound,
his eyes were still closed as the shepherds stood round.
From that instant of grace on that night long ago,
thousands of years would be warmed by the glow.
Guided by light from a bright shining star,
came a pilgrimage led of three kings from afar.

They were dressed in the finest of satins and lace,
their complexions were that of an Orient race.
The three wealthy kings were wise men and proud,
but they went to the Christ child and solemnly bowed.
They came bearing treasures of incense and gold,
to that sweet little child, still not very old.

The star in the sky twinkled down from above,
the world was awakened to kindness and love.
The past was forgotten, the future was bright,
and the spirit of Christ-mas was born on that night.





The Gift Of God
by Michael Lindell

Long before the day when Mary gave birth,
Before God formed man from the dust of the earth,
Before the stars into the heavens were hurled,
There was the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

Before the deadly fall of the race,
God's plan of redemption was already in place.
His own Son would die on an old rugged cross,
To save His creation from eternal loss.

God foretold His coming from the opening book,
The Seed of the woman for whom we should look.
Abraham, Isaac, and the sacrificial ram,
Foretold the sacrifice of the great I AM.

The prophets proclaimed the place of His birth:
Bethlehem of Judea, where God came to earth.
His name did the prophets clearly foretell:
Mighty God, Prince of Peace, Immanuel.
In the fullness of time God's word came to pass,
The birth of the Savior to a young virgin lass.
His mission on earth was finally unfurled,
The Lamb of God, to take away the sin of the world.

The way to the Father was shown us by Christ,
He said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life."
He came to release the death grip of sin,
He went to the cross our redemption to win.

It was for our sin that He suffered and bled,
Yet triumphant, victorious, He rose from the dead.
Now seated in heaven He eternally lives,
Mercy and forgiveness freely He gives.

Salvation is promised to all who'll receive.
Trust the Lord Jesus and in Him alone believe.
Repent of your sin and for His mercy do plead,
And from sin, death, and hell you will surely be freed.

O this Christ-mas may your life truly start.
May the glory of God shine into your heart.
May the gift of God -- His Son Jesus Christ
Bring true peace and joy into your life.
And what can separate us from such wonderful love
So rich and so full from our great God above?
Nothing, no nothing, in all creation can part
The Lord Jesus Christ from a redeemed, trusting heart.






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