Sip slowly and enjoy.. An angel from Heaven A BABY'S THOUGHTS.... I would like to tell you again the endless story of the first Christmas morn.. When the little Lord Jesus, our Saviour was born. He was born in a manger this Babe so dear, There was no room in the Inn that day.. Twas the time when taxes must be paid for the year so they had to turn them away.... But in the stable was a manger low, where they laid the wee little Child. And a star appeared in the Eastern sky, o'er this Babe so meek and so mild. The shepherds were watching their flocks by night when they saw that Star in the sky.. They trembled with fear as it shed it's light o'er the place where the Baby lie... They heard the voice of Angels singing, singing out on the midnight clear.. Ringing tidings of great joy, good will to men, of peace on earth and good cheer. So they followed the light of that guiding Star to the place where our Saviour was born, Offering gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, at the dawn of that first Christmas morn... Oh, the night was so dark and the cold 'twas so bleak, and in the manger the baby Jesus did sleep. His bed was made of straw, and His pillow was hay, and the Baby, in swaddling clothes did lay. The Babe, He awoke and stretched forth His arm.. His Mother was near Him..to keep Him from harm. He gazed at His mother who was pure and so fair, and He knew such a virgin, as Mary, 'twas rare. He gazed around. "Ohh, look at all the animals.. the Donkey, the cattle and sheep.. Ohh, see, Mama, that little white Lamb that is lying down beside Me! "I wonder", thought Jesus, 'who those three men are.. I heard them tell Mother, that they came from afar just to offer her gifts of silks, satins and myrrh.. To give to the Saviour..t'was the Christ Child's birth!! She's smiling at them..look at the pride in her eyes.. She's nodding her head at them..they surely talk wise. Look at all the people..why they are worshipping Me! Thought I heard someone whisper, 'A Saviour He will be'.. Father, I remember now..from My home up above You have sent Me to them..prepare them for My love... I wish my mother Mary, and the Wise Men wouldn't cry. I guess now..they too, are remembering ...that I was BORN TO DIE"!! Have another sip... Remembering the Saviour... OH, I LOVE THAT SAVIOUR, JESUS..... Oh, I love that Saviour, Jesus, who was born one winter day. Who was sent here by His Father, To lead us down that Great Highway. Oh, I love that Saviour, Jesus, who obeyed His Father,s will, Just to save a world of sinners there upon Golgotha's hill. Have you thought of how you grieve Him, how you pierce His heart with pain When you fail to obey the Saviour, ask repentance in His Name. Won't you give your soul to Jesus, promise to be kind and true? Can't you give your life to Jesus, He gave His precious blood for you. Think, my friend, of all the blessings, and the joy you'll find up there, When that Saviour comes to take you to that great Meeting in the Air!. Remember the Cross LET ME REMEMBER... Lord, help me remember Gethsemane's garden, where You prayed in such agony. Help me remember Golgotha's dark hill, where you died for a sinner like me. To remember the blood that flowed so red from Your wounded side that day. The blood of the Lamb that was cruelly shed to wash my sins away. To remember the cup of vinegar and gall, and the shame and the agony there. Oh, Lord help me remember them all as I strive for that city so fair. Let me praise His dear Name forever and to live for Him each day. Till I see my King there in His glory He'll go with me all the way. HIS BROKEN HEART 'TIS DONE....... The day was sunny, warm and still.. then, the clouds broke forth in storm. And there, upon a windy hill was heard a painful mourn. "Oh, Father, I am Thine obedient Son but this Cross I did not wish.... But not My will..but Thine be done. Oh, how my wounds do throb and ache, yet this mission must be done. Oh, I thirst..please, Father, may it rain that I might cool my tongue!! Forgive them, Father, for what they do for their ignorance of the Light. There are still those faithful few, they'll carry on this fight. Oh, My hands, they really do ache so. If only they would lower the nail another inch or two, twould ease the pain, I can tell... Father, will my life and blood be shed in vain this day, Or will these thorns upon my head become another's way to prove that living for truth and in Your tender care, will keep them from life's evils and the tempter's snare. Oh, Father, I fright!! I no longer can see! Eloi, Eloi, Lama sabathanee! My God, My God, hath Thou forsaken me? How bright it is now, Father. I think My time draweth nigh.. Oh, the pain, this pain..oh, Father, they must not see Me cry! Oh, Father, Father, to Thee now I must come. Oh, Father, 'tis finished! Thy will now...'Tis Done! All poetry written by Beulah Alcott and Shirley Kotsanos SUPREME SACRIFICE |
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