A ratty old shack
On the poor side of town;
No Christmas lights
Anywhere to be found.
Inside it’s doors,
Lived a family of four;
Wanting…and hungry…
So very poor!
I remember it well,
‘Twas the house of my youth.
Folks would laugh and point…
They thought us odd, and crude.
But I remember one Christmas,
Particularly well;
And that’s the story
I’m about to tell.
On Christmas morn,
I awoke with a start,
Excitement galore
Pounding through my heart!
No tree to be found…
Too poor, you see;
But a tiny wooden crate
Addressed to me.
I opened up the tiny crate,
And there inside I saw,
A tiny babe, looking back at me
Nestled in the yellow straw.
Daddy hoped I wouldn’t notice,
For I was very small,
But the babe inside the wooden crate,
Was my old baby doll.
My face must have shown
The disappointment I felt,
For dad’s eyes began to tear,
As his heart did melt.
He said, “Forgive me honey…
I doubt you’ll understand,
But daddy has no money
For presents like he’d planned.
So I searched the whole house over,
And gave you the best I had…
This tiny babe within the straw…
With love, to you…from dad.”
As the years flew by, I came to love
The memory of that night.
It is a time I will never forget,
For it brought me to The Light!
The Light held within that wooden box,
That first Christmas so long ago,
When God sent His Son to be born in a manger,
Here, on this earth below.
That’s how my daddy first introduced me
To my Heavenly Father above;
With that tiny doll, in the wooden box,
Given, with all of his love.
But, that baby Jesus, in the wooden manger
Is who God sent to me…
He’s the gift of love,
From God the Father, above…
A gift from Him…to me!
By: Anita Mondragon December 2012