Frankincense and Myrrh and Gold

The tree is trimmed, the stockings hung,

the stories read, the carols sung,

I've placed the gifts beneath the tree

The stockings bulge with mystery.

The scene is set for Christmas Eve,

But then before I turn to leave

There in the stable small and brown

I lay the Baby Jesus down

Soft gently in his manger bed,

Wisps of straw to pillow his head.

"Welcome, welcome, little one,

Child of Mary, God's own Son."

Somehow I feel the hours spent

In making Christmas evident-

the wrappings sparkling green and red,

The sugar cakes and gingerbread,

Beribboned wreaths and candleshine-

All these are proferrred gifts of mine

Made up of thoughts and love and time,

Just simple gestures, not sublime,

But offered in His name today,

My efforts seem in some small way

Much like the Magi's gits of old-

My frankincense and myrrh and gold.

-by Ethel Dietrich-

May your Christmas day be full of the all the Hope that was promised that first Christmas.