A Christmas Poem

A Little Child At The Crib

Fr. Leonard J. Feeney, S.J.

O sweetest Baby Jesus,
How cold You were that night,
No Santa Claus came near You,
No candles gave You light.
If l were there, dear Jesus,
I’d put You in my bed
And wrap You warm, dear Jesus,
And cover up Your head.
But Mother told me, Jesus,
You did not care to play,
For God, the Father, sent You
To take our sins away.
And You are our real Santa
Who gave us more than toys;
For gates of Heaven You opened
To everlasting joys.

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