Appalachian Christmas

When I was a child in the hills of West Virginia,
Christmas was a special time of year.
Long lost loved ones gathered at Grandmas.
Those from far away and those near.

The tree was lop-sided cut from the woods.
Covered with popcorn and decked out gaily.
A big pink ornament took the center of the stage.
Grandma swept up the pine needles, daily.

But my favorite object lay beneath the tree.
Not the gifts but Grammy's old nativity.
I'd lay beneath the tree looking at the pieces
As Grandma told us all the story of Jesus.

She'd say, 'Christmas is a time of celebration.
Not of the gifts we can give to one another.
But of the Gift that was given to us long ago.
That made the Baby in that manger, our Brother.'

Yes Christmas is a time of celebration
of Family and the blessings we can give.
But don't forget the Reason for the Season.
Jesus came and gave his life, so we can live.


by cheryl davis miller

Other poems of DAVIS MILLER (274)

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