The featured graphic was designed by Ellie-E (girl.ellie@gmail.com), who lives in New Zealand. Thanks, Ellie, for allowing me to use it, and thanks to the writers who 'wrote to the picture'.



 
 



FOUR THINGS:


HOPE
LOVE
FAITH
PEACE



HOPE IS THE ONE THING NOT TO GIVE UP
LOVE CAN BE FOR PEOPLE OR FOR A PUP
FAITH YOU CANT SEE BUT BELIEVE ME
PEACE ON EARTH HAS GOT TO BE


ONE DAY SOMEONE HAD NO FOOD
ANOTHER CLOSE FRIEND WAS SO RUDE
A STRANGER LEFT A BAG ON THE STOOP
BOXES OF RICE, AND CHICKEN SOUP


ONE CHRISTMAS EVE A FRIEND OF MINE
HAD ONLY SO MUCH MONEY THE STORE CLOSED AT NINE
SHE HAD FOUR GIFTS SHE HAD TO BUY
SHE DIDNT WANT ANYONE TO CRY


WELL AS THE STORY GOES
MAGIC MADE HER GLOW
WITH JUST ENOUGH MONEY
TO BUY FOR HER HONEY


HURRYING HOME TO HER FAMILY
THE NEXT MORNING THEY ALL SHOUTED WITH GLEE
FOR YOU SEE
UNDER THAT TREE


WAS A SKATE BOARD FOR STEVE
BARBIE DOLL FOR KELLY
AND A SHIRT FOR DAD
AND A BONE FOR TAD


SO YOU SEE THIS YEAR DONT GIVE UP HOPE
EVEN IF YOU JUST GET A BAR OF SOAP
SOME FOLKS ARE SLEEPIN IN THE PARK
WITH NARY A BLANKET AND ITS OH SO DARK


HOPE AND PRAY FOR THOSE IN NEED
FILL UP YOUR GARDEN WITH PLENTY OF SEED
WHEN VEGETABLES GROW
YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW



© By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)









Every December, Kate would get depressed. Eighteen years ago she had given up a baby for adoption. She could neither afford to take care of the little one financially nor emotionally. Years later, when she had straightened out her life, and married a fine man, she would think about this child. She now had two other children, but still wondered how the little girl was doing. Tears would come to her eyes when she thought about her lost baby. She explained to her family about it all. She always felt honesty in a family was important. So they understood her sadness.

This December was no different. She started feeling sad, the day of the baby's birth date. But this year was different in one way. A phone call to the house brought some relief to her sadness. It was a call from the adopted parents of her little girl. They explained that the little girl was now eighteen and wanted to meet her biological family. Arrangements were made to meet.

They all met at a restaurant. The girl was beautiful. She looked just like Kate. She was happy and well adjusted. She would soon be entering college. She had no other siblings and was happy to meet her sister and brother. Kate was thrilled that the girl had such a loving home.

This was the best Christmas present Kate could have received. To know that she had made the right decision for her baby and that she was happy. This December, tears again came to her eyes, but they were happy tears. She now believed in the magic of Christmas.


© By Sharon (ByGolly25@aol.com)











Christmas magic, oh dear me,
cut and decorate a tree.
Buy some presents, decorate,
spread good cheer,
for heavenís sake, donít be grumpy.


Snow of December coming down,
fireplace wood all cut and stacked.
Holiday spirit bubbling over,
just the season,
is really magic.


Things you mentioned way back when,
some of them to be under the tree.
Good will and thoughts of others,
togetherness and above all . . .
the family.


Nothing bad said at all,
little boo booís ignored.
Hugs and kisses all around,
some even still hang mistletoe!
Oh the magic in the air.


Togetherness and love is shown,
in most you can plainly see,
their inner selves.
So smile and join right in,
ante up a little of your own magic.



© By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)










Why is it only one time a year
We acknowledge a certain behavior?
Spread Joy and Love, discourage fear,
To celebrate the birth of a savior


In December, those last six days,
Burning candles, bells and strands of holly.
Just a few of so many ways,
Keeps this part of winter jolly.


As the time passes through the Winter season
And snow falls covering the earth.
Have we forgotten the important reason?
Has that faded with New Year's mirth?


All year we should be giving a gift.
Don't wait for the year to end.
Give someone else that lift.
That only you can send.


Call it Christmas, Kwaanza, Hanukhah or anything.
But don't save it for one season a year.
Don't wait for golden bells to ring.
Send all your good wishes far and near.



© By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)







Miracles are born at Christmas time.
Prayers are answered even as the Christmas bells chime.


Healing and faith go hand in hand;
Even as the Baby Jesus was born in the holy land.


Some things we can not touch or see, but we feel them with the heart.
The magic of Christmas gives hope to the hopeless and His love does impart.


Our souls reach out for that Christmas gift of magic each year,
As once again the reason for the season becomes clear.



© By Phyllis Ann (Starbird55@comcast.net)












In both hemispheres
The children are singing
From Belfast and Glasgow
And South to New Zealand


The Magic of Christmas
Is the voice of the innocents
Replenish the soul
Anoint one like incense


The Magic of Christmas
Is the love that we're sure of
That cannot be taught
By equation or theorem


The Magic of Christmas
Cannot be bought
Packaged or sold
It's the love that we give
Without being told


The gifts that we give
And the ones that come to us
Are the manifestation
Of the love
Flowing through us


The Magic of Christmas
Is the voice of the innocents
And the infinite grace
Of The One born this day.



© By Diana Howell (writerworks@live.com)












Layer on layer of love from afar,
A winter-glow sky
Fir trees in a blanket of white,
A season of nature sleeping.


A barn to save hay and seed,
Where horses neigh and warm
Summer fences dormant
Marking strength for spring.


In the mind of prayer
The soul sees a golden gift
Presented with symbols of
Ribbons and bells.


In the midst of nature's quiet resting
A celebration of what soon will come,
Wrapped in swaddling love,
Our Savior.



© By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)
















         

 

 






Manhattan At Christmastime ( A slide show )

Christmas Trees for Sale

A Ride Through the Snow (Several authors )

Lingering At My Window

Why Winter Isn't Always White





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