Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
Born that man no more may die.
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Hark! The herald angels sing,
‘Glory to the newborn King!’
And it was always said that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us. And so, as Tiny Tim observed, “God bless us, everyone!”
Again the heart with rapture glowsTo greet the Holy nightThat gave the world its Christmas Rose,It’s King of Love and Light.
Let every voice acclaim His name,
The grateful chorus swell.
From Paradise to earth He came
That we with Him might dwell.
Yea, Lord, we greet thee
Born this happy morning.
Jesus, to Thee be all glory given!
Word of the Father,
Now in flesh appearing.
We spirits of Christmas do not live only one day of our year. We live the whole three hundred and sixty-five. So is it true of the Child born in Bethlehem. He does not live in men’s hearts only one day of the year but all the days of the year.
Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.
Radiance beams from Thy holy face
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.