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That First Christmas March 7, 2010

That First Christmas, Oh sacred Day
                When The Baby Jesus in manger lay-
The Holy Child in his swaddling clothes
                Sleeps gently as the wonder grows.
 
The Virgin Mary smoothes the bed
                 Where rests the sacred Infant’s head;
And as She folds Him to Her breast
                Did a heavenly brightness on Him rest?
Did She forget anguish, travail and pain
                When The Prince of Life in her arms was lain?
 
Did She do as other Mothers would?
                 Was she thrilled with the glory of Motherhood?
Was He a God or a Baby then
Before He became a servant of men?
 
Methinks I hear Her answer me
                From out of the mists of Eternity:
“He was My Baby for so short a time –
My dear little Babe with a soul divine –
                My soul vibrates with praise and joy,
For the Savior of the World
                Was My Baby Boy!”
 
“O sacred glorious mother Love
                Is a gift to mortals from God above.
The Lord loves His children, every one,
                BUT MY BABE IS HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON!”
 
Thus Mary seemed to answer me
                From out of the mists of eternity –
So that Little Babe born in Bethlehem
                Was God’s Christmas gift
                To the children of men.
 

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