The crunch of the ice as it breaks beneath his step, huddled close to himself, cold, hungry and wet. It reminds him of that evening not so long ago. Yes, he was a child who laughed and played in the snow.
He had not minded the weather so much in those days, you know.
Back...Back... to that year when he was seven. Mama cooking a fine feast, basting the turkey, it smelled so good, it tasted like heaven.
He blinked out the cold, and remembered eight tiny reindeer, she placed on the mantel, while Dad lit the tall dark red Christmas candle. Bits of Christmas yule still whispered in his ear....Peace on Earth good will to men... He could hear them all sing as they decorated the tree once again.
Not so far, just up the street, a door so near wshere the homeless retreat. Behind it a promise of warmth, a cup of hot broth. Some Christmas dinner for little or maybe no cost.
The anticipation, almost to much to bear... He drited back in time once again....
Her arms were comfort. Her smile radiant, irradecent, as she told the Christmas story and gave him that special present.
He chuckled even now as he unwrapped it once again... A tiny manger, and Jesus within.
The door is nearer, yes he will go in... He could smell the hot coffee, taste the turkey again.
A tug....Tug Hard...at the door. Why won't it open? LOCKED! it can't be. He can see the twinkle of a small Christmas tree. He reads the sign and his dreas are all broken, a deep sigh leaves his heart, the disappointment unspoken....
NO ROOM. NO ROOM IN THE INN.
His soul races backwards to the manager under the tree, where the youngest placed Jesus for all to see.
Now he stood on this doorstep, and wept bitterly.
So now with this picture, Our Christmas is here. It is the same in every town, year after year. What was the message of that first Christmas long ago, so you thin the homeless in their hearts truly know? Does the Christ Child give us a glimpse in the anger scene?
Really try to look, I hope we all begin to see... and let Christ own words through our holiday, golden chimes be:
"WHAT YOU DO FOR THESE THE LEAST, YOU DO ALSO FOR ME."
by:
Melissa Moga
©Copyrighted 1990
And all through the house
There was cleaning and baking,
(By everyone - but that mouse).
The manger was placed by the fireplace hearth,
Being made ready for Jesus's birth.
The tree was put up, the lights were ablaze -
Everyone wishing "Happy Holidays!"
For in these modern times of great diversity
It's not proper to say, "Merry Christmas", you see.
We must be tolerant of other culture's ways,
And Christians must take Christ out of THEIR holy days.
Most children were anxiously awaiting the day
When presents abound --- "Who IS Christ, by the way?"
For they don't know Jesus --
It's sad, but it's true.
So, in Christ's name I'll say -
MERRY CHRISTMAS -- to you.
-Joyce Blauvelt
Thank you Joyce for the lovely poem.
Get your Christmas Present here.
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