LAST YEAR, Rick and Bubba shared their views on the MEANING OF THE SEASON being
lost in the shuffle.

Shortly after hearing their debate, I decided to write a story about it.


“With all of the holiday hustle and bustle,
Christmas at our house had lost its muscle.

Each Christmas Day we’d gather ’round the tree,
and each would exclaim, “WHICH PRESENT IS FOR ME?”

I said, “Let’s try to do something this year,
To find the spirit of Christmas that once lived here.”

So lined under the Spruce were twelve gifts tied in a bow,
I said, “See if you can pass them on for twelve days in a row.”

On the twelth day of Christmas there was a shiny brush and comb,
The children shared it with a sweet lady on their street who lived alone.

On the eleventh day of Christmas they found a small toy,
at a hospital they put a smile on the face of a sick little boy.

On the tenth day of Christmas they found a furry coat.
They took it to a shelter and left it for a stranger with a note.

On the ninth day of Christmas they found a lit up tree,
They took it to the park and left it for everyone to see.

On the eighth day of Christmas they found a box of bouncing balls.
They took them to an animal shelter and played with creatures great and small.

On the seventh day of Christmas they found a deck of cards and book of rhymes.
They took them to a retirement home where they spent their greatest gift of time.

On the sixth day of Christmas they found gloves and a pretty hat.
They shared it with a little girl who had never seen anything as beautiful as that.

On the fifth day of Christmas they found a book with old photos of themselves.
They spent the day pasting pictures in a book for grandma instead of them being lost on the shelf.

On the fourth day of Christmas they baked a basket of bread,
They crumbled it up into pieces and made sure the birds would all be fed.

On the third day of Christmas there was a yummy chocolate cake,
They shared it with the teachers while they were on their lunchroom break.

On the second day of Christmas they found a beautiful bouquet.
They left it on the doorstep for a neighbor, rang the bell and ran away.

On the day before Christmas there was a giant box in red,
With only an ornament of Baby Jesus hung by a golden thread.

They placed it front and center of their very special tree
In honor of the birth that brought Jesus to be.

When I said, “Let’s open the presents that were left here for you.”
Everyone stood there in silence, not sure what to do.

We had all been wondering who took the Christ out of Christmas but it had been there all along,
It was our own hearts that had missed it and made the holidays all wrong.

Next year we’d be ready, we had something to believe,
In our hearts was the dearest lesson~
It is more fun to give than to receive.

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