Twas the Night Before Christmas

And so Christmas is almost upon us.

Presents are bought and wrapped, cards written and sent, carols sung, food prepared, tree up (and down and up and down and up again!) decorations on, and all is hopefully ready for the special day that is tomorrow.

And whilst I love every single thing about Christmas, ad I mean EVERY single thing from the food and the smells of cinnamon and spice, to the tacky Christmas songs, the beautiful carols, the hustle and bustle, the excitement that permeates the air, the christmas food, the cards, the parties, the services , EVERYTHING ..... I try and keep firmly in focus what really matters and why we are celebrating. And as the children so beautifully reminded everyone this year ... don't forget the manger.

I have my photo of the day from the Christingle Service

and my JYC page shows the crib in church

and I do want to share some lovely poems.

Twas the night before Christmas is a very special poem int his house, read every year on Christmas Eve ever since I was born. Mommy used to recite it to me and when I was 4 I was givent he book and still have that book. I made a Night Before Christmas Box for our mantlepiece years ago and Nigel recorded an audio book of it where his voice reads the story as you turn the page. I love that poem as it is part of my Christmas traditions.

I thought I would share some of the alternative versions .... and there are lots ... that I love.

The Night Before Christmas
A more spiritual version of the famous Christmas story

By: Sister St. Thomas, B.N.D. de N

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town,
St. Joseph was searching, walking up roads and down;
Our Lady was waiting, so meek and so mild,
While Joseph was seeking a place for the Child.

The children were nestled, each snug in their beds,
The grown-ups wouldn't bother, there's no room they said;
When even the innkeeper sent them away,
Joseph was wondering, where they would stay.

He thought of the caves in the side of the hills,
Lets go there said Mary, it's silent and still;
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Made pathways of light for their tired feet to go.

And there in a cave, in a cradle of hay,
Our Savior was born on that first Christmas Day!
The Father was watching in heaven above,
He sent for His angels, His couriers of love.

More rapid than eagles God's bright angels came;
Rejoicing and eager as each heard his name;
Come Power, Come Cherubs, Come Virtues, Come Raphael,
Come Thrones and Dominions, come Michael and Gabriel.

Now fly to the Earth, where My poor people live,
Announce the glad tiding My Son comes to give;
The Shepherds were watching their flocks on this night,
And saw in the heavens and unearthly light.

The Angels assured them, they'd nothing to fear,
It's Christmas they said, the Savior is here!
They hastened to find Him, and stood at the door,
Till Mary invited them in to adore.

He was swaddled in bands from His head to His feet,
Never did the Shepherds see a baby so sweet!
He spoke not a word, but the shepherds all knew,
He was telling them secrets and blessing them too.

Then softly they left Him, The Babe in the hay,
And rejoiced with great joy on that first Christmas Day;
Mary heard them exclaim as they walked up the hill,
Glory to God in the Highest, Peace to men of good will!

Tis the Month Before Christmas

Tis the month before Christmas, we're all going nuts;
With so much to do, there's no ifs, ands or buts.
Buy presents, hang tree lights, pop cards in the mail,
Send gift packs, thread popcorn, find turkeys on sale.

Decorations need stringing up all through the house.
And you haven't a clue what to buy for your spouse.
School concerts, receptions, open houses with friends,
Long lineups, short tempers, tying up the loose ends.

With all our mad dashing, we're reeling from shock;
Let's stop for a minute and really take stock.
It's crassly commercial, the cynical say;
If that's true, that's our fault-it's us and not they.

Take time for yourself-though hard as that seems—
Enjoy your kids' laughter, excitement and dreams.
Take a moment out now, don't get overly riled,
Instead make an angel in snow with your child.

The shortbread can wait, and so can the tree;
What's important to feel is a child's sense of glee.
The holidays aren't about push, rush and shove;
They're for friendship and sharing and family love.

Hear the bells, feel the warmth, light up with the glow
Of a message first sent to us so long ago:
Peace, love and goodwill, and hope burning bright.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

The REAL Night Before Christmas
(By Parents)

Twas the night before Christmaswhen all through the house
I searched for the toolsto hand to my spouse.

Instructions were studied and we were inspired,
in hopes we could manage"Some Assembly Required."

The children were quiet (not asleep) in their beds,
while Dad and I faced the evening with dread:
a kitchen, two bikes, Barbie's townhouse to boot!
And now, thanks to Grandpa, a train with a toot!

We opened the boxes,my heart skipped a beat—
let no parts be missing or parts incomplete!

Too late for last-minute returns or replacement;
if we can't get it right, it goes straight to the basement!
When what to my worrying eyes should appear
but 50 sheets of directions, concise, but not clear,

With each part numbered and every slot named,
so if we failed, only we could be blamed.
More rapid than eagles the parts then fell out,
all over the carpet they were scattered about.

"Now bolt it! Now twist it! Attach it right there!
Slide on the seats, and staple the stair!
Hammer the shelves, and nail to the stand."
"Honey," said hubby, "you just glued my hand."

And then in a twinkling, I knew for a fact
that all the toy dealers had indeed made a pact
to keep parents busy all Christmas Eve night
with "assembly required" till morning's first light.

We spoke not a word, but kept bent at our work,
till our eyes, they went blurry; our fingers all hurt.
The coffee went cold and the night, it wore thin
before we attached the last rod and last pin.

Then laying the tools away in the chest,
we fell into bed for a well-deserved rest.
But I said to my husband just before I passed out,
"This will be the best Christmas, without any doubt.

Tomorrow we'll cheer, let the holiday ring,
and not run to the store for one single thing!
We did it! We did it! The toys are all set
for the perfect, most magical, Christmas, I bet!"

Then off to dreamland and sweet repose
I gratefully went, though I suppose
there's something to say for those self-deluded—
I'd forgotten that BATTERIES are never included!

Finally a couple of pages from my Project 365

Have a wonderful Christmas Eve and I wish you all the blessings of Christmas.

and finally the page a day calendar page for today

The journey that began the December night I received my child’s frightening medical news continued into the next summer.
One evening, I was sitting at the end of a dock beside a clear mountain lake. A few last rays from the setting sun tinted the scattered clouds, which earlier had brought a light rain. I was praying yet again for my child. Suddenly, I flung my open arms to the sky and spoke to Jesus with complete conviction: “If
You have allowed it, then I can trust it.” It was my way of giving up my child to Him, of giving up my desire to say how this should end.

No sooner had I spoken than a magnificent rainbow formed right before my eyes, filling the sky
with color. I wanted to leap into the air and run under that rainbow, treading the clouds. I still had no answer for our family’s crisis, but I had hope.

Six months later, after another Christmas celebration of the miracle of the Christ Child, our own child received miraculous news of perfect health!

Even in the dark times, Mary had a hope anchored in that first angelic promise: “Of his kingdom there shall be no end.” I believe this hope supported her from the flight into Egypt clear to the foot of the Cross. For all her joy in holding her Bethlehem baby, I picture her most keenly, even at Christmas, rushing into the outstretched arms of her risen Son.

Jesus, You give such hope and power and purpose to Your people! The tiny flailing fists of Bethlehem have become the strong arms of my salvation.—CAROL KNAPP