“I’m looking for Christmas,”
The little boy said,
“Is it old Santa,
Or is it the sled?”
“Is it the stockings
That’s filled up with care?
Or is it the mistletoe
Hung by the stair?”
“Is it the star
on the top of the tree?
Or presents wrapped up
For sister and me?”
“Is it the lights
That shine all aglow?
Or is it the fir tree
all covered in snow?”
“Is it the candy
The sugary treats?
Or the fruitcake from Sue
Or the nice Christmas meats?”
Then Momma whispered
In a voice soft and low,
“It was something that happened
A long time ago.”
“It is a feeling
That grows through the years
Brings joy and peace
And silences fears.”
“It was a baby
A Christ child so fair
With Mary and Joseph
And shepherds were there.”
“Oh,” said the wee one,
“I know what you mean.
It’s the feeling inside
When I look at the Scene.”
