The Gift

The hour was late,the night was cold, The sky was clear and bright. The moon sent down it's silver glow, As they plodded through the night. They stopped beside the old inn door, That they might find rest and shelter; But the answer here they'd heard before, "There's no room left, I fear Sir." And so it was to a stable they came, Where the hay smelled sweet and mild. A lowly place, the young man thought, To bring one's wife with child. But here it was that He was born, The Lord of All Creation. In a lowly place at the back of town, The Gift of God, Salvation. Judy Ball MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY