The Christmas Present
November 4th, 2009
I heard a knock on my door one Christmas Eve
As I looked out my window, a man I could see
He was cold and seemed so lonely
And he was upon a bended knee.
—
He asked, “Can you spare anything for me to eat?”
I opened up the door and as I helped him in
He looked up at me with such a peaceful grin.
As he drank down some coffee and had a bite to eat
I put more wood on the fire so he could warm his feet
Over there by the fireplace he warmed his tired hands
I wonder where did he come from,
This quiet, white haired man?
—
But I wasn’t at all afraid of his peaceful ways,
You see, this man dressed in poor,
almost as poor as me As he left,
he turned and thanked me for all I had done
But he forgot to take his gloves, so out the door I run.
He was gone in the blizzard and I couldn’t hardly see,
So I took his ole gloves back to the house with me
—
Just a little after midnight, I awoke in the dark;
There wasn’t a bit of fire, just glowing cinders
A little spark,
And where I’d placed his gloves by my little Christmas tree
There laid a brand new pair
And a Christmas Card for me.
And it read. . . .
—
You gave me shelter and food to keep me warm;
You even tried to bring me my old gloves in the storm,
So here’s you a new pair,. . . the finest ever seen . . .
—
As an angel of the Lord,
I’ll be sure to tell the King. . . .
Merry Christmas . . .
~ Billy M. Smallwood
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