Christmas has become so commercialized it's hard to
keep a focus on the real reason to celebrate.

It began so very, very long ago, A bright star shining below, They traveled all that way, Only to find a bed of hay.

As Mary's time drew near, She knew she'd give birth to someone so dear, The wisemen knew right where to go, And they probably paced to and fro.

When the king did finally arrive, The entire barn came alive, So much excitement, so much joy, So much love for this little boy.

As he layed in the manger that glorious night, Everything in the world seemed so right, Only history knew what was to come, And who this child would become.

O mighty powerful he is even today, For only those who do not betray, Happy Birthday Dear Jesus, our precious one, And we will continue on as your work is never done.

Written by Diana Groome

Poetry copyright of Diana Groome 2000-2004

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