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"Through the year this day of days brings to the heart again an echo of the angel's song of peace and good will to men." Author Unknown Kaddo Katz' Christmas Poems The First Christmas Twas the first night of Christmas 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 Christmas was born on that night. ~ Author Unknown ~  Keeping Christmas There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas Day, and that is Keeping Christmas. Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people and to remember what other people have done for you? To ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world? To admit that the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life? Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and desire of little children? To remember the weakness and loneliness of people who are growing old? To stop asking how much your friends like you? and ask yourself whether you love them enough? To try to understand what those who live in the same house with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you? To make a grave for your ugly thoughts and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open? Are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas. Are you willing to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world - stronger than hate, stronger than death - and that the blessed Life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of eternal love? Then you can keep Christmas. ~ Henry van Dyke ~ On Going Home for Christmas He little knew the sorrow that was in his vacant chair; He never guessed they'd miss him, or he'd surely have been there; He couldn't see his mother or the lump that filled her throat, Or the tears that started falling as she read his hasty note; And he couldn't see his father, sitting sorrowful and dumb, Or he never would have written that he thought he couldn't come. He little knew the gladness that his presence would have made, And the joy it would have given, or he never would have stayed. He didn't know how hungry had the little mother grown Once again to see her baby and to claim him for her own. He didn't guess the meaning of his visit Christmas Day Or he never would have written that he couldn't get away. He couldn't see the fading of the cheeks that once were pink, And the silver in the tresses; and he didn't stop to think How the years are passing swiftly, and next Christmas it might be There would be no home to visit and no mother dear to see. He didn't think about it - I'll not say he didn't care. He was heedless and forgetful or he'd surely have been there. Are you going home for Christmas? Have you written you'll be there? Going home to kiss the mother and to show her that you care? Going home to greet the father in a way to make him glad? If you're not I hope there'll never come a time you'll wish you had. Just sit down and write a letter - it will make their heart strings hum With a tune of perfect gladness - if you'll tell them that you'll come. ~ Edgar Guest ~ Shine of the Star Bethlehem fell quiet that night Cold and peaceful, not a cloud in sight A star shined down upon us high in the sky We all knew something, except the reason why Before long, love embered completely around Just quiet whispers within the distinct sound Of the Child's cry I tried to shield them as best as I could But a tired, little lamb can't do much good With the mean wind, the Babe glowed anyway I'll always remember how He smiled at me that day They brought Him gifts and bowed to pray Their faith carried them that long, cold way We beasts lay quietly in the straw Watching the Christ child in unshakable awe His birth touched all beings Even we stable animals changed it seems For the Babe brought about true, complete love By the shine of the star in that night's sky above ~ Terri Tiernan Maguire ~ The Meaning of this Day When homes are gay with holly wreaths, With mistletoe and pine, While childish hearts sing out with joy, In faith that is sublime. While gala packages are heaped Beneath the Christmas trees, And snowflakes lightly flutter down In twilights playful breeze. While logs are heaped upon the flame, While music low and sweet, Fills halls and stairs and upper rooms With joy that's most complete. While festive boards are heaped with food, And candles gleam and glow, While greeting cards and messages Come from the ones we know. While many white-robed choirs sing, While heads are bowed in prayer, And tears escape, in loneliness For one who is not there. While all these things and many more. Help make our season gay, Let us remember, in our joy, The meaning of this day. ~ Author Unknown ~ Christmas Season At Christmas - the season Of giving and sharing, Of living and loving Remembering, caring- Our thoughts bridge the space that Would tend to divide us Restoring the warmth of Your presence beside us. May all the sweet magic Of Christmas conspire To gladden your hearts And fill every desire. ~ Harold H. Benn ~ I Wish I wish I could see how it was that night, I've prayed about it before. I'd like to feel and know and see The night angels opened heaven's door. I know the words that were sung. They are recorded in Holy Writ. But the music itself, how did it sound? If I could hear just a little bit. The shepherds, I'd like to see them too, Hasting down from the quiet hill. Did they really know exactly where to go? Or did they search and search until... I'd like to see Mary so special, so pure, And Joseph so honorable and so good. How choice to meet them, to see them myself, Oh, if only I could. And the Baby, I know just how He would be. His small face shining with a Godly soul. Oh, if only, if only I could see. Someday I will, on Father's scroll. ~ Maxine Crossley ~ Christmas Angels The Whittles lived in Humbleburg, As poor as poor can be, But all their neighbors loved them, For their generosity. For though the Whittles' shelves were bare, Their cottage tumbledown, When Christmas came they made a toy, For every child in town. One Christmas Eve they climbed in bed, After all the toys were made; And while they dreamed of better times, The Whittles were repaid. That night three Christmas angels came, To give them a reward - For heaven won't let any act Of kindness be ignored. One angel searched the cupboard And found just a crust of bread; "Now, this won't do," she whispered, "Let's prepare a feast instead!" The angels flapped their magic wings, As only they are able, And in a flash a flood of food Filled all the shelves and table! The tiny house still looked quite drab, It needed to be cheered; And as the angels waved their wings, A Christmas tree appeared! Two angels trimmed the pretty tree; The third flew to and fro, Hanging bells and holly boughs, And sprigs of mistletoe. Outside, the angels dressed the house With icicles and snow, And on the door they placed a wreath, Complete with a bright red bow. They finished all they came to do, Before the break of day, And as the Whittles roused from sleep, The angels flew away. Now, when the Whittles saw the food And all the decoration, They pinched themselves and wept for joy, Then danced in celebration! As word spread through the village Of their heaven-sent surprise; Every Humbleburger came To see with their own two eyes! The Whittles shared their Christmas feast - They emptied all the shelves; Their kindness wouldn't let them keep Good fortune to themselves. When everyone had cleaned their plate, They all joined in a song; And up above - though no one heard - The angels sang along! ~ P.Z. Mann ~ Guessing Time It's guessing time at our house; every evening after tea We start guessing what old Santa's going to leave us on our tree. Everyone of us holds secrets that the others try to steal, And that eyes and lips are plainly having trouble to conceal. And a little lip that quivered just a bit the other night Was a sad and startling warning that I mustn't guess it right. "Guess what you will get for Christmas!" is the cry that starts the fun. And I answer: "Give the letter with which the name's begun." Oh, the eyes that dance around me and the joy- ous faces there Keep me nightly guessing wildly: "Is it some- thing I can wear?" I implore them all to tell me in a frantic sort of way And pretend that I am puzzled, just to keep them feeling gay. Oh, the wise and knowing glances that across the table fly And the winks exchanged with mother, that they think I never spy; Oh, the whispered confidences that are poured into her ear, And the laughter gay that follows when I try my best to hear! Oh, the shouts of glad derision when I bet that it's a cane, And the merry answering chorus: "No, it's not. Just guess again!" It's guessing time at our house, and the fun is running fast, And I wish somehow this contest of delight could always last, For the love that's in their faces and their laughter ringing clear Is their dad's most precious present when the Christmas time is near. And soon as it is over, when the tree is bare and plain, I shall start in looking forward to the time to guess again. ~ Edgar Guest ~ A Visit From St. Nicholas 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donner and Blizen! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes - how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night." ~ Clement Clarke Moore ~ Legend of the Holly The holly berry that burns so red (Raise high the holly!) Once was whiter than wheaten bread (As love is better than folly.) Whiter than shells along the shore It blooms on its tree by a stable door. Villagers come there, half-afraid, Gifts in their hands for Child and Maid. And one has nothing of note, so he Fetches a branch of the holly tree. Alas, alas, the little Newborn Has pricked His finger upon a thorn, Has left His blood on the spiny leaves. Heavy of heart the holly grieves, Sees in a terrible vision how A crown of holly shall bind His brow When Child is man. For sorrow and shame The berries have blushed as red as flame. Says Mary the Mother, "Take no blame. "But be of good cheer as ever you can. Both foul and fair are the works of man, "Yet unto man has My Son been lent. And you, dear tree, are the innocent "Who weeps for pity what man might do. So all your thorns are forgiven you." Now red, rejoicing, the berries shine On jubilant doors as a Christmas sign That desolation to joy makes way. (Hang high the holly!) Holly is the symbol of Christ's Birthday. (When love shall vanquish folly.) ~ Author Unknown ~ The Last Christmas Tree 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 it 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 wood. 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! ~ Author Unknown ~ Each Remembered Name I have a list of folks I know all written in a book, and every year at Christmas 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 heart. For each name stands for someone who has crossed my path sometime, and in that meeting they've become the rhythm of the rhyme. And while it sounds fantastic for me to make this claim... I really feel I am composed of each remembered name. And while you may not be aware of any special link, just meeting you shaped my life more than you can think. For once you've met somebody, the years cannot erase the memory of a pleasant word or of a friendly face. So never think my Christmas greeting is just a mere routine of names upon a Christmas List, forgotten in between. For when I send a Christmas greeting that is addressed to you, it's because you're on the list of folks I am indebted to. For I am but a total of many folks I've met, and you happen to be one of those I prefer not to forget. And whether I have known you for many days or just a few, in some ways you have had a part in shaping things I do. And every year when Christmas comes I realize anew, the biggest gift life can give is meeting folks like you. And may the Spirit of Christmas that forever and ever endures, leave its richest blessings in the heart of you and yours. Happy Holidays! ~ Author Unknown ~     
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