December 19, 2024

‘Twas the week before Christmas and all through the church, 
Every preacher was stirring, not least Father Birch.
The greens would be hung on Sunday, by noon,
While Mary and Joseph search for a room.
The lectors were scheduled, the Bible was set,
The silver was polished, all requirements met;
And the deacon and priest, both snug in their stoles,
Were eager to see what this Christmas would hold,
When out in the pews there arose a bright song,
and heaven and nature both sang along.
Away to the altar I flew like a flash,
The Eternal Word was here in the flesh.
The newly born babe, laid there in the manger,
our redeemer on earth, a friend not a stranger.

Merry Christmas, beloved friends! Rejoice!