Bethlehem's First Gift
In Bethlehem so long ago when our Savior was born,
I'd put myself into to that scene, as something used and worn.
Not an angel singing, or shepherd from the hill,
not a curious townsman, or Eastern Magi royal.
Not as any living creature, like sheep, camel, or ox.
No, I would more likely to be shaped like a box.
The first gift given at that time, not wrapped in ribbons red.
I'd prefer to be the receptacle, where He first laid His Head.
A worn and used manger would I be,
filled with the straw of simplicity.
There I could hold him for the night,
and perhaps feel the power of God's might.
To let Him rest in me would be my thought,
as Mary lay Him gently in my trough.
We sometimes forget the inanimate things of life no doubt,
Though they are always here about.
We use them without thought in our daily strife,
but I would be the one that first held His life.
I would be there to watch others come to see,
the Child born that night for you and me.
Yes, I would be the used and worn out manger,
that catered that night to that great stranger.
When He left I would return to being a tool,
Who knows, in heaven I might be His footstool.
Ah, but just that one night of His sweet caress,
would fill all the days of my loneliness.
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