A Christmas Gift

by Catherine Lang

Jolly old St Nicholas
is struggling to find
reasons to be joyful.
He’s so much on his mind.

With war, with famine
pain and death
and politicians’ lies.
It’s getting harder every year
to don the old disguise.

The velvet suit is packed away.
The long white beard clean shaved.
He looks out on this world and asks,
Can Christmas still be saved?

He wanders through the city streets
alive with tawdry lights
that offer neither joy nor warmth
to brighten winter’s nights.

He comes upon a stable yard
aglow with candle flame.
He hears a mother whispering
her tiny baby’s name.

With Ox, with donkey
sheep and lamb
he contemplates the scene.
The spirit that is hope and love
sleeps soundly, all serene

Jolly old St Nicholas,
his rosy face now beams.
That tiny child’s reminded him
what Christmas really means.
The beard, the suit,
the present sack,
the open hearted giving?
A gift for every Christmas child.
The gentle Grace of Heaven.