THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

I enter the home of poverty,

causing pale-faced children to open their

eyes wide in pleased wonder.

I cause the miser's clutched hand to relax,

and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.

I cause the aged to renew their youth

and to laugh in the glad old way.

I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood.

and brighten sleep with dreams woven of 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 a moment on his wild,

wasteful way, and send to anxious love some little token

that releases glad tears-

tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.

I enter dark prison cells,

reminding scarred manhood of what might have been,

and pointing forward to good days yet to come.

I come softly into the still, white home of pain,

and lips that are too weak to speak

just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.

In a thousand ways I

cause the weary to look up into the face of God

and for a little moment forget the things

that are small and wretched.

I am the Christmas Spirit

Author Unknown