What Christmas Is To Me

It’s cotton for snow in a village I know with each house in its place on a shelf. And an angel is there, high in the air In the top of our tree, by its self. It’s a manger scene of ceramic and sheen, And the Christ child watched over by Snoopy. Though his character don’t fit, doesn’t matter a bit, The child wanted him there; not Goofy. It’s carolers singing, and tiny bells ringing, And the Salvation Army kettle. It’s cooking and baking, and young hearts waiting For Santa Clause after they settle. It’s candles that light our windows at night And a wreath hanging on our front door. A child’s surprise, and the glow in his eyes Among paper and bows on the floor. It’s church bells that ring to remind of a scene When into the world there came A child who was King, who came to redeem Those who were lost and lame. The excitement is there, and sounds fill the air And I celebrate for a reason. Remembering Christ came to accept all my blame Is why I celebrate the season. Ron Lanier Christmas, 2006