The Hands Of Christmas

 

I woke one bright December morn'

Pulled on my socks and sweater warm,

Jumped out of bed and felt it there— 

A new excitement in the air!

Tap, tap, tapping her refrain

Upon my frosted windowpane,

Hope had come to visit me,

Hope in all her finery,

And I could hardly wait to see

The presents that she brought!

 

On I went about my day,

Spreading smiles along my way,

For hope had left a good supply

For me to use and multiply,

The perfect gift, there is no doubt,

Urging other smiles to sprout,

Like friendship cake, it won't run out,

If we take time to share it.

 

As we pull on our sweaters warm,

And count our blessings every morn,

Let's be the hands of hope for those

Whose hearts are weighted down with woes,

With open arms, we'll heed hope's call

Then, Happy Christmas, one and all,

"Peace on earth, Good will to men,

For Christ is born each day again."