You are delighted with the Christmas lights in our house and out and about this year. I keep thinking of this poem written by Vernon Grounds, the late president of Denver Seminary, where I used to work. It has new meaning now that I have you!
To My Daughter
On Her Second Christmas
You are too young, my dear, to understand
The reason for this star-topped, twinkling tree,
The gifts so gaily wrapped, the songs, the bells,
And all the happy, high festivity.
You only stare in wide-eyed wonderment,
Delighted by the joys of Christmas Day.
I cannot tell you how a Baby came
To Bethlehem so long ago and far away.
I cannot tell you yet how Jesus slept
Upon the straw in that transfigured stall;
Nor can I trace from cradle to the Cross
The story of the God Who gave His all.
I cannot tell you how (Oh, love divine!)
Our Saviour was enthroned upon a tree,
Nor how He purchased pardon for the world
By perishing, thorn-crowned, on Calvary.
I look into your eyes, my child, and pray--
All other children, dear, I pray for too--
That He of Whom the angels carolled then
May bring, in years to come, God's peace to you.
