A ratty old shack
On the poor side of town;
No Christmas lights
Anywhere to be found.
Lived a family of four;
Wanting…and hungry…
So very poor!
‘Twas the house of my youth.
Folks would laugh and point…
They thought us odd, and crude.
Particularly well;
And that’s the story
I’m about to tell.
I awoke with a start,
Excitement galore
Pounding through my heart!
Too poor, you see;
But a tiny wooden crate
Addressed to me.
And there inside I saw,
A tiny babe, looking back at me
Nestled in the yellow straw.
For I was very small,
But the babe inside the wooden crate,
Was my old baby doll.
The disappointment I felt,
For dad’s eyes began to tear,
As his heart did melt.
I doubt you’ll understand,
But daddy has no money
For presents like he’d planned.
And gave you the best I had…
This tiny babe within the straw…
With love, to you…from dad.”
The memory of that night.
It is a time I will never forget,
For it brought me to The Light!
That first Christmas so long ago,
When God sent His Son to be born in a manger,
Here, on this earth below.
To my Heavenly Father above;
With that tiny doll, in the wooden box,
Given, with all of his love.
Is who God sent to me…
He’s the gift of love,
From God the Father, above…
By: Anita Mondragon