Christmas will always be in the hearts of God's children everywhere as they extend a helping hand to a friend in need ... as they go about reflecting God's goodness in the little quiet and unheralded expressions of a loving heart ... as they share the light of the world with those who live in darkness.  Jane Hillsmen

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Matthew 2:1-2
1 Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judæa in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,
2 Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.

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The Angels Cried
Allison Krauss and Alan Jackson
audio recording with still pictures
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jOKGbq8ARE

They came from near, they came from far
Following a distant star to where He lay
Not being sure of what it meant, but
Knowing it was Heaven sent
They made their way
And the creatures gathered 'round
And didn't make a sound
And the angels cried
The angels knew what was to come
The reason God had sent His son from up above
It filled their hearts with joy to see and
Knowing of His destiny came tears of love
And the creatures gathered 'round
And didn't make a sound
And the angels cried
I've often thought about that night
And wondered if they realized
That star so bright was sent to tell all the landThe Son of God would soon become the Son of Man
And the creatures gathered 'round
And didn't make a sound
And the angels cried (3x)

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CHRISTMAS PRETZEL COOKIES
2 lbs. white chocolate bark (can be melted in microwave or double boiler)
8 to 10 oz. long stick pretzels, broken into 3 pieces
4 c. Rice Krispies
1 c. Spanish peanuts (or any nuts)
Wax paper
Mix everything together. Pour melted bark over all and spoon out on wax paper to form candy. Candy will harden as it dries.

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Let not our hearts be busy inns,

That have no room for Thee,

But cradles for the living Christ

And His nativity.

Still driven by a thousand cares

the pilgrims come and go,

the hurried caravans pass on,

the inns are crowded so!

Oh, lest we starve, and lest we die,

In our stupidity,

Come, Holy Child, within and share

Our hospitality.

Let not our hearts be busy inns,

That have no room for Thee.

But cradles for the living Christ, 

and His nativity

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Several years ago, a friend of mine shared a story about her boys.  They had a family Christmas pageant at their grandparent’s home the first Monday in December.  Her little boys (age 3, 4, and 7) were the wisemen.  Their grandmother taught them to take their responsibilities seriously, after all they were the ones who gave the first presents to baby  Jesus.  The pageant was beautiful and everyone was happy with it.  As the month passed, my friend noticed odd little things.  A can of spray paint vanished and some glitter.  The Halloween things were gotten into, and her purse was raided.  Someone took her make-up.  On Christmas Eve, the family read the story of the birth of the Savior from the book of Luke.  Then her three little wisemen took out crudely wrapped presents and put them by the nativity.  In one present was a can of gold spray paint and a jar of gold glitter.  In the next was a monster mask (Frankenstein), and in the third was the mirror from her compact.  Her boys remembered Jesus.  They talked a lot about service that coming year and the example which Jesus set for everyone.  The following year the boys each found someone they could serve.  Serving became a way of life, first at Christmas time and then year round.  They passed out sandwiches and blankets to the homeless; gathered toys and clothes for the Women’s shelter, and helped with many angel Trees.  Jesus is our role model.  He didn’t come to Earth to have people wait on and serve Him.  He came to serve us.  He gave each of us unique gifts and abilities to use in the service of others.  It is not enough to have faith, we must also follow in His footsteps, act in His name ~~ Marilee

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I am the Christmas spirit

E.C. Baird

I enter the home of poverty,

causing pale-faced children to open their

eyes wide in pleased wonder.

I cause the miser’s clutched hand to relax,

and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.

I cause the aged to renew their youth

and to laugh in the glad old way.

I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood,

and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.

I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways

with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts

amazed at the goodness of the world.

I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild,

wasteful way, and send to anxious love some little token

that releases glad tears –

tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.

I enter dark prison cells,

reminding scarred manhood of what might have been,

and pointing forward to good days yet to come.

I come softly into the still, white home of pain,

and lips that are too weak to speak

just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.

In a thousand ways I

cause the weary world to look up into the face of God

and for a little moment forget the things

that are small and wretched.

I am the Christmas Spirit.