It was told, by God, to Mary ~ to bear this holy child
For, He found her to be of grace and, of a character, mild.
She bore this precious holy babe on a soft bed of clean hay
as the three wise men followed the brightest star, to find the way.
They honored the baby Jesus with gifts of frankincense, myrrh and gold.
Over the ages and centuries, this miraculous birth is told.
We have to tell each generation, so they can know of His birth, too.
He's the one, who later dies, with nail-scarred hands to save both me, and you.
Isn't it a wonder God loved us so to watch this, His child, suffer death;
this same holy babe, in a manger, since before His first breath?
I can see, in my heart, the joy that abounded there, in Bethlehem,
As Jesus was softly laid on His mothers' lap; the newborn Lamb.
He was Holy and never sinned. T'was righteous in all His ways,
Paying homage to His dear Father all of His living days.
He loved all the little children, said, "Let them come unto me."
He went to the old cross, one day; beaten and scorned, our dept to pay.
Let us honor Him, this birthday, with prayers of wondrous joy
That, through all the ages, God helps us remember this precious, baby boy.
Of all the stories ever told this, and the cross He was nailed to,
Will help us remember His will ~ in all the things He would have us to do.
© by Pearlie Duncan Walker
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Supplied for Our Devotions by - Pearlie Duncan Walker