It’s the day before Christmas and I must confess
There are so many things that are still yes, a mess
It’s not just the wrapping, the stuffing, and hiding
But back ‘o my head, is there room for abiding?
With Angels, and Shepards, and foremost the Child
Is there room at this Inn, when the world’s so darn wild?
I wonder what door-busters I must have missed
Sitting with grandchildren, helping a guest.
And why do we start throwing Pumpkins away
To string red and green after Hallowe’ens Day?
Thanksgiving is hardly the day it should be,
One of thanks, dah, and giving; not buying the Tree!
There must be a reason we wake in wee hours
To drive to the mall and stake out ALL that’s ours.
We push and we pull and stand shoulder to shoulder
To ward off the latecomers; who could be bolder?
I loved as a kid to drive out special nights
Our family together, enjoying the lights
And singing the carols that harkened His coming
Then going to church to sing more or just humming
An apple, an orange—a Florida treasure—
That made it to stockings and Christmas morn pleasure
Is there room at this Inn? I am asking us all
Do we find time to spread love? To answer the call?
Think less of BLACK—Friday’s hardly the reason
To get in the spirit of the Holiday Season.
Make room in your heart, and Hilltop will strive
To do more than just being, just staying alive.
We’ll cook up good cheer, we’ll fluff up real soothing,
And maybe our best will offset the abusing
Of Christmases Present, and set things to right…
Merry Christmas to all; and to all a Good Night.