'Twas the night

before Christmas and

all through our house, not a

creature was stirring but me and

my spouse. No stockings were hung;

there was no space to spare. And the chimney?

 The  builder did not  put one there.  With wife nigh

exhausted and me half asleep, she doled and we slumbered

in somnolence deep. No Santa came calling. No reindeer we

heard, but we dreamed of a manger and the incarnate Word. Nor

 would we exchange all His multiplied joys for all this world's tinsel

and glittering toys. For they will soon crumble and issue in dust, but truth

is forever.

His gifts will

not rust.


                                                                                                           (Author unknown)