“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.”