Need an inspirational thought...something to get you through the hustle and bustle of the holiday season?  Well, you've come to the right place.  Check here regularly for inspirational thoughts about Christmas. 

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(Thursday, December 25)

You are cordially invited to

A BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION!!!

Guest of Honor: Jesus Christ

Date: Every day. Traditionally, December 25

but He's always around, so the date is flexible....

Time: Whenever you're ready.

(Please don't be late, though, or you'll miss out on all the fun!)

Place: In your heart.... He'll meet you there.

(You'll hear Him knock.)

Attire: Come as you are... grubbies are okay.

He'll be washing our clothes anyway. He said something about

new white robes and crowns for everyone who stays till the last.

Tickets: Admission is free. He's

already paid for everyone...

(He says you wouldn't have been

able to afford it anyway...

it cost Him everything He had. But

you do need to accept the ticket!!

Refreshments: New wine, bread, and a

far-out drink He calls "Living Water,"

followed by a supper that promises to be out of this world!

Gift Suggestions: ; Your life. He's one of those

people who already has everything else.

(He's very generous in return though.

Just wait until you see what He has for you!)

Entertainment: Joy, Peace, Truth,

Light, Life, Love, Real Happiness,

Communion with God, Forgiveness, Miracles, Healing, Power,

Eternity in Paradise, Contentment, and much more!

(All "G" rated, so bring your family and friends.)

R.S.V.P. Very Important!

He must know ahead so He can

reserve a spot for you at the table.

Also, He's keeping a list of His friends for future

reference. He calls it the "Lamb's Book of Life."

Party being given by His Kids (that's us!!)!

Hope to see you there! For those of you whom I will

see at the party, share this with someone today!

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL...

AND GOD BLESS US, 
EVERY ONE!

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(Wednesday, December 24)

MY FIRST CHRISTMAS IN HEAVEN

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
 With tiny lights, like Heavens, reflecting on the snow.
The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear,
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear.
But the sounds of music can't compare with the Christmas Choir up here.
I have no words to tell you, the joy the voices bring,
For it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart.
But I am not so far away, we really aren't apart.
So be happy for me, dear ones, you know I hold you dear,
And be glad I'm spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I sent you each a special gift, from my heavenly home above.
I sent you each a memory of my undying love.
After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold.
It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other, as my Father said to do.
For I can't count the blessings or love he has for each of you.
So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear,
Remember I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I received this online.  The tag line said "** This poem was written by a 13 year old Ben to his mother before he died of a brain tumor.  He died in 1997, and that year his spent his first Christmas with Jesus."

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(Tuesday, December 23)

A Christmas Story
by Rian B. Anderson

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted so bad that year for Christmas.

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. So after supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and  waited for Pa to get down the old Bible.  I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read scriptures.

But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores.  I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard.  "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight."

I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see.  We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this.  But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told  them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house.  Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell.  We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load.

Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.  When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of  the woodshed.  He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said.  "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.

When we had exchanged the sideboards Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood---the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked.  The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight.

Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "why?" 

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."  That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him.

We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon.  He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.  When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.

"What's in the little sack?" I asked.  

"Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the wood-pile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence.  I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare  that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this?  Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door.

We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all.

Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.  "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children---sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last.

I watched her carefully.  She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said, then he turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring enough in to last for awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up."

I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too.

In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around  the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.  My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I'd never known before. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference.

I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.   I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time.   She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said.  "I know the Lord himself has sent you.   The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug.  They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two older brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away.  Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Just then the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

received from Inspiration List
http://www.inspirationlist.com

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(Monday, December 22)

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(Sunday, December 21)

If we think of our heart,
rather than our purse,
as the reservoir
of our giving,
we shall find it
full all the time!

--David Dunn
printed in Christmas Treasures of the Heart
compiled by Cheri Fuller

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(Saturday, December 20)

CHECK OUT
by J.R. Labbe from Fort Worth Star Telegram

Christmas Eve, a year ago.  The Wal-Mart in Cleburne, Texas, was jammed, hectic.  Dozens of people were waiting in long lines at checkout counters to purchase small appliances, jewelry, toys and clothing that would be next-morning treasures under someone's tree.

The woman standing in cashier Jeffrey Kandt's line seemed to be living on the edge of subsistence.  Her clothes were worn; her hands were those of a person who'd worked hard for what she had.  She held a single item in her arms as she patiently waited to move to the front of the line.  Her son would get the one present he had asked for:  a Sony PlayStation2.  She had saved all year for this; with tax, the total would be close to $220.

As Kandt scanned the game player's bar code into his register, the woman panicked.  Where was her money?  It wasn't where she remembered putting it earlier in the day.  Her fear became palpable to the customers in line behind her as she started to cry.

Why my line?  Kandt thought as he watched the frantic woman search through her clothes.  He was going to have to call his manager to void the sale and return the game player to a locked shelf.  He'd have to shut down his checkout line and wait for her to come from another part of the crowded store--not something that any store manager or cashier wants on Christmas Eve, not with people waiting and the clock ticking down to closing time.  I'm going to be late for church, Kandt thought.

And then an amazing thing happened.  At the back of the line, a man took out his wallet, pulled out $100 and passed it forward.  As the cash moved up the line, a twenty-dollar bill was added here, a ten-dollar bill there.  Someone threw in a bunch of ones dug from the bottom of a jeans pocket.

When the collection finally reached the register, Kandt counted $220.

Strangers had fulfilled a poor woman's Christmas wish to give her son his dream gift.

And Jeffrey Kandt wasn't late for church.  The people in his line in the Cleburne, Texas, Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve 2002 had become one.

from Reader's Digest, December 2003

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(Friday, December 19)

(Thursday, December 18)

(Wednesday, December 17)

Christmas is the time for sharing . . . a time to reach out to touch the needy, with a reach that extends to heaven, then to earth, bringing them together.

Christmas is a time for learning . . . a time when new truth is uncovered, and trusting children often teach the old.

Christmas is a time for love . . . a time to shed inhibitions, a time to show that we care, a time to say words too long unsaid.

It was, oh, so easy to miss His first coming . . . and if we're not careful, we may miss Him again this year.

IT WAS THAT NIGHT

It was that ethereal night
when a matchless star stood glowing in the East,
trailing a man, a woman, a burdened beast.
          It was that incredible night
          when an innkeeper became the first to say:
          "I have no room for You this day."
                     It was that incomparable night
                    when Gabriel came ecstatic to the earth,
                    proclaiming glad tidings of a royal birth.
It was that immortal night
when a caring God reached gently down to lay,
His supreme gift, Love, upon the hay.
--Fred Bauer

from Mini Moments for Christmas by Robert Strand

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(Tuesday, December 16)

CHRISTmas

'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the town
Not a sign of Baby Jesus
was anywhere to be found.

The people were all busy
with Christmas time chores
Like decorating, and baking,
and shopping in stores.

No one sang "Away in a manger,
no crib for a bed".
Instead, they sang of Santa
dressed-up in bright red..

Mama watched Martha Stewart,
Papa drank beer from a tap.
As hour upon hour
the presents they'd wrap.

Then what from the TV
did they suddenly hear?
'Cept an ad.. Which told
of a big sale at Sears.

So away to the mall
they all flew like a flash...
Buying things on credit...
and others with cash!

And, as they made their way home
from their trip to the mall,
did they think about Jesus?
Oh, no... not at all.

Their lives were so busy
with their Christmas time things
No time to remember
Christ Jesus, the King.

There were presents to wrap
and cookies to bake.
How could they stop and remember
who died for their sake?

To pray to the Savior...
they had no time to stop.
Because they needed more time to
Shop 'til they dropped!"

On Wal-mart! On K-mart!
On Target! On Penney's!
On Hallmark! On Zales!
A quick lunch at Denny's

From the big stores downtown
to the stores at the mall
They would dash away, dash away,
and visit them all!

And up on the roof,
there arose such a clatter
As grandpa hung icicle lights
up on his brand new stepladder.

He hung lights that would flash.
He hung lights that would twirl.
Yet, he never once prayed to Jesus...
Light of the World.

Christ's eyes... how they twinkle!
Christ's Spirit... how merry!
Christ's love... how enormous!
All our burdens... He'll carry!

So instead of being busy,
overworked, and uptight
Let's put Christ back in Christmas,
and enjoy HIS special night!

Merry CHRISTmas, my friends, and to all a good night!

received through email--no credits listed

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(Monday, December 15)
(Don't think there's any way you can categorize today's message as "inspirational," but hopefully one or two of them will make you laugh...and laughter is good for the soul!)

What did the Gingerbread Man put on his bed?
A cookie sheet

What reindeer has the cleanest antlers?
Comet

What do they call Santa's helpers?
Subordinate Clauses

What do you call Santa Clause after he's fallen into a fireplace?
Krisp Kringle

Who sings "Love Me Tender" and makes Christmas toys?
Santa's little Elvis

Which of Santa's reindeers needs to mind his manners the most?
"Rude"olph

What is the cow's holiday greeting?
Mooooory Christmas

What does Santa like to eat?
A jolly roll

Where do Santa's reindeers like to stop for lunch?
Deery Queen

What does Santa say when he is sick?
OH OH NO!

If athletes get athlete's foot, what do astronauts get?
Missile toe

How does Santa Claus take pictures?
With his North Pole-aroid.

What do you call the fear of getting stuck while sliding down a chimney?
Santa Claus-trophbia

What do you call Santa on the beach at Christmas time?
Sandy Claus

Where do Santa and Mrs. Claus live?
In an icicle built for two

How does Santa tend to his garden?
Hoe, hoe, hoe

Why does Santa's sleigh get such terrific mileage?
Because it has long-distance runners on each side

Why does Santa especially love all his reindeer?
Because every buck is deer to him

What are Santa's Favorite songs?
"There's Snow Place Like Home for the Holidays" and "Freezer Jolly Good Fellow!"

When traveling in the sleigh in inclement weather, Santa gets icicles in his beard.
Real chin chillas, those.

Why does Santa sometimes remove all the bells from his sleigh and travel silently through the night?
One day he hopes to win a No Bell prize

Why does Santa love sliding down chimneys?
Because it soots him

When Santa gets stuck in the chimney, how do you get him out?
Pour Santa Flush on him.

Since Santa has to go up and down a wide variety of chimneys on Christmas, should he have a yearly flue shot?

St. Nicholas is the main Claus. His wife is a relative Claus. His children are dependent Clauses, and as a group, they're all renoun Clauses.

Santa's elves have banded together to protest the terrible conditions they've been working under...they're striving for higher elf esteem.

***
a compilation from items from Mikey's Funnies and The Groaners Mailing List and "Have a Punny Christmas" by Richard Lederer

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(Sunday, December 14)

First Corinthians 13, Christmas Version

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime, but do not show love to my family, I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir's cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.

Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn't envy another's home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.

Love doesn't give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can't.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails.

Video games will break, pearl necklaces will be lost, golf clubs will rust.

But giving the gift of love will endure.

Merry Christmas

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(Saturday, December 13)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KIDDO!!!!!!!

A LETTER FOR SANTA

Snowflakes softly falling
Upon your window they play
Your blankets snug around you,
Into sleep you drift away.

I bend to gently kiss you,
when I see that on the floor
there's a letter, neatly written;
I wonder who it's for.

I quietly unfold it
making sure you're still asleep,
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep.

It started just as always
with the toys seen on TV,
A new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me.

But as my eyes read on
I could see that deep inside
there were many things you wished for
that your loving heart would hide.

You asked if your friend Molly
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her
and it makes you very sad.

Then you asked dear Santa
if the neighbor down the street
Could find a job, that he might have
some food, and clothes, and heat.

You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away,
"Dear Santa, send them just one thing,
a place where they can stay."

"And Santa, those four cookies that
I left you for a treat,
Could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat."

"Do you know that little bear I have--
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you to take
to Africa this year."

"And as you fly your reindeer
on this night of Jesus' birth,
Could your magic bring to everyone
goodwill and peace on earth."

"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be,
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus
in the manger by our tree."

I pulled the letter close to me.
I felt it melt my heart.
Those tiny hands had written
what no other could impart.

"And a little child shall lead them,"
was whispered in my ear
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was here.

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(Thursday, December 11)

(Tuesday, December 9)

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(Sunday, December 7)

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(Saturday, December 6)

At Christmas
(Edgar Albert Guest, 1881-1959)

A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than be's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime. When it's Christmas man is bigger and is better in his part; He is keener for the service that is prompted by the heart. All the petty thoughts and narrow seem to vanish for awhile And the true reward he's seeking is the glory of a smile. Then for others he is toiling and somehow it seems to me That at Christmas he is almost what God wanted him to be. If I had to paint a picture of a man I think I'd wait Till he'd fought his selfish battles and had put aside his hate. I'd not catch him at his labors when his thoughts are all of pelf, On the long days and the dreary when he's striving for himself. I'd not take him when he's sneering, when he's scornful or depressed, But I'd look for him at Christmas when he's shining at his best. Man is ever in a struggle and he's oft misunderstood; There are days the worst that's in him is the master of the good, But at Christmas kindness rules him and he puts himself aside And his petty hates are vanquished and his heart is opened wide. Oh, I don't know how to say it, but somehow it seems to me That at Christmas man is almost what God sent him here to be.

(Thursday, December 4)

THE STABLE
by Joni Eareckson Tada

It was a chilly night in the little Judean town of Bethlehem.  The kind of night when you want to escape the cold, damp air and find warmth and security inside a cozy inn.  And people crowded tightly into the inn at the end of the street.  They left their donkeys and camels in the back stable and closed the door against the night air.

Inside, the inn buzzed with laughter and chatter.  Distant relatives who had not seen each other in years renewed family ties over bowls of hot soup and goblets of wine.  They broke bread together, swapping stories of their journeys.  A teenage boy strummed his lyre in the corner, and several fathers clapped their hands in time to the music.

In the rush to serve tables, the innkeeper, balancing a tray of breads and meats, answered a knock at the door.  A man calling himself Joseph stood outside, pulling his homespun cloak tightly around his neck.  It was late, it was cold, and he and his young wife needed a room.  A glance told the innkeeper the woman was heavy with child.  He could barely hear himself talk with so much noise behind him, but he managed to explain that there was no room, only an empty stall or two in the stable out back.

Shrugging his shoulders, the innkeeper quickly apologized and slammed the door.  Outside, Joseph stood for a moment, listening to the laughter inside.  Back in the stillness of the night, Mary waited.  The young couple made their way to the stable.  And while music and laughter and feasting went on and on, just yards away behind the walls of the inn, the Son of God quietly entered history.

Sometimes the best moments of the Christmas season do not happen during the crowded parties or the rush of holiday preparations.   They don't occur in the music and laughter, the camaraderie and feasting.

When I think of special Christmas memories, I think of those quiet moments when God unexpectedly surprised me.  With Himself.  With an overwhelming sense of His nearness and love.

In the midst of so much activity, so much going on, so many days on the calendar filled with appointments or parties, God seeks out the quiet heart--and speaks to us in a still, small voice.

Think of the stable in Bethlehem.  Somehow it stands serene.  What a contrast to the celebrating going on in that inn.  Who would have supposed?  Who would have suspected?  If someone had only taken the time to peer out a back window toward the stable.  If someone had only dropped what he was doing to leave the party and go check on his donkey.  If someone had only slipped away from the festivities for a moment to seek a quiet moment outside. 

Just think of what they might have witnessed!  Perhaps they would have seen the angels.  Maybe the shepherds.  And yes, even the Son of God.

Take the time this Christmas season to step outside the clamor and excitement.  Visit the stable and ask God to speak to you in the quiet and serenity and stillness.

He will.

from Christmas Stories for the Heart
Complied by Alice Gray

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(Wednesday, December 3)

Christmas, my child, is love in action.

When you love someone,
you give to them,
as God gives to us.

The greatest gift He ever gave
was the Person of His Son,
sent to us in human form
so that we might know
what God the Father is really like!

Every time we love,
every time we give,
it's Christmas.

from Everything I Need to Know About Christmas I Learned from Jesus

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