by Lynda Miller
Christmas and the house is a wreck
|Twas two weeks before Christmas, and all was a mess,
No Deck the halls in sight, and Fa La La’s were less.
Wet paint signs were hung by the chimney with care,
The walls were still sticky and the painters still there.
A worried young grandson lay snug in his bed,
Visions of no Saint Nicholas ran through his head.
The Christmas tree missing, no Jack Frost nipped at his nose,
The Miller’s were anxious this Christmas would be hosed.
But, maybe it is that this year, we remember the reason,
That it is not about stockings, presents or trees this season.
Perhaps this Christmas it is a reminder to us all
That it began with a babe born in a stall.
The Christ of Christmas whose birthday we celebrate
By enjoying loved ones and friends, not presents and fruitcake.
The spirit of Christmas on this blessed day
Is brought by the Lord Jesus, not Santa on his sleigh.
As we sit around the buckets of paint; the walls still a wet sight,
We wish you and yours a Merry Christmas to All and to All A Good Night!