Dad Poet Society

While Christmas lights glittered like gems throughout town,
Dawnelle was unhappy. Salt tears trickled down
her eight-year-old face, which was darkened with gloom,
dripping on the soft rug in her eight-year-old room.
She should be quite merry, for she’s pretty and smart,
and the glories of Christmas should lighten her heart.
But she’s counted the gifts ’neath the brightly lit fir:
she’d asked for twelve toys; only eight were for her.

Her mind was so set on the things she would get,
she hadn’t learned giving, at least not just yet.
But then, as she sat on her bed in the gloom,
a warm light came swirling and filled up her room.
As soon as she saw the sweet babe all in white,
her tears stopped their trickling; her heart became light.
It was soft the babe spoke, and the words that he said
brought a new meaning of Christmas to Dawnelle’s young head.

“I was born on this day far away, long ago,
but I asked of men then, and today’s much more so,
to bring a true peace to this life that you live:
think not what you’ll get, but of what you can give.
I was sent to this earth to give all that I had,
and giving my life made me happy, not sad.
So no matter how young, or no matter how small,
you’ll find getting’s little, and giving is all.”

The babe kissed Dawnelle, then the light left the room,
but his warmth was still there, and it chased out the gloom.
A few hoarded dollars was all Dawnelle had,
but spending it now really made her heart glad.
When all her gifts were all wrapped and placed with the rest,
she knew in her heart that giving is best.
And you know the best part of this Christmas-time cheer?
She’s going to keep giving throughout the whole year.