I picked up a book at a garage sale.
Its cover was worn and pages bent.
The book opened to a page with a picture of Christ.
It was the only page in perfect condition.
When I looked into His eyes I had to have that book
and couldn't wait to get home to read it.
I had grown away from religion with my busy life, even
though I had been deeply religious in my younger days. After returning home I looked at the picture of Jesus
and heard the voices of angels singing His
praises on that first Christmas.
I was like the Innkeeper rushing here and there
storing up food, buying possessions and
so busy there was no room in my heart for the Christ Child. I returned to my book the next morning and discovered
after searching through each page in vain that
the picture of Christ was not there.
It was gone but my faith had returned.
I could now see beyond the darkness to that light
in the heavens, that song in the air,
which tells of the Birth of Christ.