Of times long ago, of other places,
Whispers of stories that cling to our hearts
Of bone-weary travelers with no place to stay
The birth of a baby who slept in the hay
It's remembering the shepherds
Scared out of their wits
Thinking and worrying that they had nothing to give
The king and the Magi who noticed a star
In the crystal clear nights as they traveled afar
It's anticipation - of a time yet to come
We hurry towards deadlines
For some day on the wall
With hustle and bustle we endlessly prepare
Decorations and food and the gifts we will share.
Christmas is planning -the list seems to grow
For flurry of buying, doing, and going - and yet
Deep down inside, we know that's too much
It's the giving, receiving, and keeping in touch
It's sharing the warmth, the smiles and the "wealth"
Remembering those burdened,
Who have nothing at all
It's baking, and roasting, and stirring the pot
Dishing up for neighbors,
Whether we know them or not
Christmas is believing - and not believing, too
It's buried in hearts where people
Somehow feel the glow
It's hope for the future, tomorrow and next year.
When maybe - just maybe -
We'll have nothing to fear
It's change and tradition - each treasures his own
It's recycled and timeless, brand-new and finite
It's found in the tree and the lights and the star
It's found in woods or alleys,
For it comes where we are
Christmas is fluid - sometimes hard to explain
It lives within us, deep in mind, heart and soul
Maybe we're not ready, last gifts not yet bought
But Christmas is coming - ready or not.
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made, without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
John 1:1-5
