(March 19,1955 / Fayette, Alabama)

The Traveler (X'Mas)

My family were travelers
Along a rugged road.
We were with a crowd
Who carried a heavy load.

We got slack in keeping up
The leaders were far ahead.
I was told He had to be born
But at the Inn there was no bed.

We entered into a city
Where a star shone so bright.
It drew a mass of people
Even wise men came by night.

We heard the cattle lowing
We heard the baby's cry.
And one man said to us
Its sad He came to die.

I really didn't know
Just what this fellow meant.
But I later felt the power
When I learned why He was sent.

Still I am a traveler
Telling what I was told.
Teaching of His redemption
And how His love saves the soul.

by Cecelia Weir

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