Friday Two Cents: Christmas Poem


Year after year I struggle to pass on the true meaning of Christmas to all I know.
But how do I do it? With words, stories, play or a Christmas show.
Yet I am not sure if people do hear.
The message that I pass on year after year.


The message that Christmas doesn’t come from a store,
That Christmas means a little bit more.
Christmas is about love for everyone big and small,
That you cannot find it in any shopping mall.


It comes from within you and you have a lot to share,
But people do not know this and it seems unfair.
For Christmas love comes from your heart,
You have always had it from the start.


So how can I help you see the joy the season brings?
Is in songs that famous people sings?
No, I saw a poem that speaks of this love.
It dropped in my lap like a sign from above.


It is touching and it inspired me write a few things I wanted to say,
For it speaks of how I feel about Christmas Day.
So please enjoy the poem and read it out loud for all to hear,
Happy Christmas to all and have a Wonderful New Year.


Santa’s Secret Wish

Author Unknown


On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes

Looked deep into Santa’s, to Santa’s surprise

And said as he sat on Santa’s broad knee,

“I want your secret. Please tell it to me.”


He leaned up and whispered in Santa’s good ear

“How do you do it, year after year?

I want to know how, as you travel about,

Giving gifts here and there, you never run out.


“How is it, Dear Santa, that in your pack of toys

You have plenty for all of the world’s girls and boys?

Stays so full, never empties, as you make your way

‘Round the world, in each house just a moment to stay.


“From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large and small,

From nation to nation, reaching them all?”

And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy,

“Don’t ask me hard questions. Don’t you want a toy?”


But the child shook his head, and Santa could see

That he needed the answer. “Now listen to me,”

He told that small boy with the light in his eyes,

“My secret will make you both sadder and wise.


The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside

It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.

But although I do visit each girl and each boy

I don’t always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.


“Some homes are too hungry, some homes are too sad,

Some homes are so desperate, some homes are bad.

Some homes are broken, and there children grieve.

Those homes I do visit, but what should I leave?


“My gift bag is filled with the happiest stuff,

But for homes where despair lives toys aren’t enough.

So I tiptoe in, kissing each girl and each boy,

And I pray with them that they’ll be given the joy


“Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives

In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.

If only God hears me and answers my prayer,

When I visit them next year, what I will find there


“Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love

And boys and girls gifted with light from above.

It’s a very hard task, my smart little brother,

To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.


“But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,

For God has a way of meeting each need.

That’s part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,

Is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth.


“In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day

More love than a Santa could e`er give away.

The sack never empties of love, or of joys

`Cause inside it are prayers, faith and hope. Not just toys.


“The more that I give, the fuller it seems,

Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.

And do you know something? You’ve got a sack, too.

It’s as magic as mine, and it’s inside of you.


“It never gets empty, it’s full from the start.

It’s the center of lights, and of love. It’s your heart.

And if on this Christmas you want to help me,

Don’t be so concerned with the gifts `neath your tree.


“Open that sack called your heart, and then share

Your joy and your friendship, your wealth and your care.”

The little boy’s eyes was so bright with a glow.

“Thanks for your secret. Now I’ve got to go.”


“Wait, little boy,” Said Saint Nick, “please don’t go.

Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?”

And just for a moment the small boy stood still,

Touched his heart with his hand and then whispered, “I will.”



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