“I testify that He is utterly incomparable in what He is, what He knows, what He has accomplished and what He has experienced. Yet, movingly, He calls us His Friends” ~~Neal A. Maxwell 

*****

It’s been a quiet Christmas Day.  We woke to polos from our children/grandchildren of Christmas morning, and the opening of gifts.  Dean and I exchanged small gifts with each, then opened the gifts from our children.  We’ve felt peace and harmony.  It’s been a day filled with beautiful Christmas music, movies and remembrances of the Savior, and all that He has done for us.  His gifts are immeasurable.  I’d like to share the song “He Is The Gift” with you, and to end with a poem which talks about the precious gift of prayer.  “Christmas Eve” was  written by my grandmother’s youngest sister.  It’s a message from the past, but still is sweet and relevant today.  Until next year ~~ Marilee

*****          

He is the Gift - New Christmas song by Shawna Edwards
video
https

*****

Christmas Eve

    (c) Evelyn Wilde Heath (my great aunt)

It was such a stately mansion
On the corner of the square,
And the white snow, falling around it,
Shone, like sequins scattered there,
For a Christmas tree was lighted,
Tall, and glorious to the sight,
As it threw its bright reflections
Through the darkness of the night.

Johnnie stopped to leave a paper,
And his heart beat rapidly
As he looked into the window
and beheld the Christmas tree,
All about the night grew darker–
Johnnie dreaded so to leave–
"I forgot," he slowly whispered,
"That tonight is Christmas Eve–

"Surely doesn’t seem like Christmas,
Now my daddy’s gone away,
And my mom so sad and ailing,
growing weaker every day."
Johnnie’s ip began to quiver
And a lump came in his throat,
As he plunged his small hands deeper
In the pockets of his coat.

"Guess at that, I’m pretty lucky–
Got to see this Christmas tree,
wish my mom was getting better,
And I’d bring her by with me."
Then he turned, rushed bravely onward
Till his work was quite complete.
No one noticed the small figure
As he hurried down the street.

Now the darkness wrapped about him,
As he left the lights of town–
Then he reached a little cottage
With it’s walls most tumbling down.
"Mom, I’m home." His young voice greeted–
"Say, tonight is Christmas Eve–
You’d just ought to see that tree, mom–
Bigger than you could believe."

 But his mother didn’t answer.
And he tiptoed to her bed,
Touched her gently, as he questioned,
"Did you hear, mom, what I said?
Are you worse, mom?" Tears came streaming
Down his roughened, little face,
As he bent and held her tightly
In his little arms’ embrace.

"I could sing, and pray for you, mom,
I know just the words to say,
Like the Preacher did that Sunday–
Then you’ll get well right away."
Then his small voice seemed to echo
Through the bare and lonely room–
Sweet, like church bells softly ringing
Through the heartache and the gloom.

"Take your burdens unto Jesus–
Lay them gently at His feet–
He will hear you–He will help you,
For His heart is pure and sweet."
Then he raised his eyes toward heaven
And repeated what he’d said,
While his hand lay very gently
On his mother’s feverish head.

And a stranger stopped, –when passing
He had heard the plaintive song,
And he paused in meditation
Feeling something must be wrong–
Heard the childish supplication–
"Please, dear God, –she’s awful sick–
She’s my mom–please make her better,
You must act just awful quick,

"‘Cause she’s worser than this mornin’--
She can’t even say a word;
If you’ll help her to get better,
Then I’ll know you’ve truly heard."
With a wondrous Christmas spirit,
He knocked gently on the door–
Quietly entered, as he did so,
Saw the sight, the cold bare floor–

Guessed their plight, and wisely told him–
"I’ve been sent to help you, son."
"Say! He’s awful quick in actin’--
Sent you most for I was done.
It’s my mom–she’s awful sick, sir,

But if He has sent you here,
Everything will be alright, now,
Guess there’s nothin’ more to fear."

I will take you home with me, son–
We are lonely as can be,
And we’ll take your mother, too, dear,
She’ll be well right soon, you’ll see.
We’ve no one to share our Christmas,
So we need a little boy–
Guess we both must need each other
To bring Christmas peace and joy."

Johnnie’s eyes grew bright–grew wider,
And his small heart jumped with glee,
As the large car turned, then circling
Stopped right at that Christmas tree.
"Oh!" He cried, "Do you live here, sir–
Do I really stay here, too?
Guess he knew how glad I’d be, sir,
That’s the reason he sent you."

Then they entered, his frail mother
Born in strong arms, like a child.
And she seemed to know the blessing
For she raised her eyes and smiled.
Through His marvelous way of working,
Peace and love and joy he gave
Seemed to fill the room with glory
Of His power to bless and save.

Christmas Eve–so bright and happy–
Johnnie loved to often tell
How the doctor came that evening,
How his mom seemed almost well,
Tell of Christmas Day’s bright dawning–
Santa, too, had seemed to know,
He brought toys and bike for Johnnie,
New, warm clothes they needed so.

"And the strangest thing," said Johnnie,
"Our Heavenly Father must be near,
For those words I’d hardly spoken
To have reached His listening’ ear–
And he sent us help, so sudden,
So I know he really cares,
And I know he’s always listenin’
That he truly answers prayers."