Christmas gifts and Christmas journeys fill our thoughts and days this month. We share this experience with thousands who have gone before, not the least of which was the mother of our Lord, as these poems acknowledge:

Mary’s Burden
By
Eleanor Farjeon

My Baby and Burden,
Tomorrow the morn
I shall go lighter
And you will be born.

I shall go lighter,
But heavier too,
For seeing the burden
That falls upon you.

The burden of love,
The burden of pain,
I’ll see you bear both,
Among men once again.

Tomorrow you’ll bear it
Your burden alone,
Tonight you’ve no burden
That is not my own.

My Baby, my Burden,
Tomorrow the morn
I shall go lighter,
And you will be born.
 
How Far Is It To Bethlehem?
by Frances A. Chesterton

How far is it to Bethlehem?
Not very far.
Shall we find the stable room
Lit by a star?

Can we see the little Child?
Is He within?
If we lift the wooden latch
May we go in?

May we stroke the creatures there
Ox, ass, or sheep?
May we peep like them and see
Jesus asleep?

If we touch His tiny hand
Will He awake?
Will He know we’ve come so far
Just for His sake?

Great kings have precious gifts
And we have naught
Little smiles and little tears
Are all we have brought.

For all weary children
Mary must weep
Here, on His bed of straw
Sleep, children, sleep.

God in His mother’s arms
Babes in the byre
Sleep, as they sleep who find
Their heart’s desire.

For the joy of reading,

Liz