Christmas Spirit

(poem shared by Carole Brown on Sunday, Dec. 6th)

I am the Christmas Spirit.

I enter the home of poverty and cause pale faced children to open wide their eyes in pleased wonder.

I cause the miser to release his clutched hand, thus painting a bright spot upon his soul.

I cause the aged to remember their youth and to laugh in the glad old way.

I bring romance to childhood and brighten dreams woven with magic.

I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts amazed at the goodness of the world.

I cause the prodigal to pause in his wild and wasteful way and send to anxious loved ones some little token which releases glad tears, washing away the hard lines of sorrow.
I enter dark prison cells, causing scarred manhood to remember what might have been and pointing to better days yet to come.
I enter the still white home of pain, and there, lips that are too weak to speak just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.

In a thousand ways I cause this weary old world to look up into the face of God and for a few moments forget everything that is small and wretched.

You see I am the Christmas Spirit.

(Author Unknown)