We speak of peace at Christmas time,
The dark night, soft and still,
But mine has never been that way.
I doubt it ever will.
A silent night on earth.
Travel weary, without a place,
Then having to give birth.
Shepherds sent on the run,
A stable filled with animals,
And a new life begun.
But one of gratitude
That washed away the noise and pain
In joyous attitude.
I’ll be with family,
And grateful my Christmas will be
Both joyous and noisy.
And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him
in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for
them in the inn. And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field,
keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to
them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with
great fear.
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