Christmas In America Poem by Neil Stewart McLeod

The season is a'turning there's a real change in the air
A chilly wind is blowing now, the branches all look bare,
In L.A. and in Florida palms rattle in the breeze,
And folk are loading cars and trucks to bring home Christmas trees.
They're out there in the garages to find the strings of lights
To trim boughs and house eaves for the winter nights.
Boxes of decorations you've safely stowed away,
Are brought out and remembered and put up on display.
Stockings for the mantle on the garland in a row,
And strategically above a door a bunch of mistletoe.

Down in the old town center huge crowds can be seen
They've come to view lights upon the massive evergreen.
The shops are all a'bustling with people taking time
To find the gifts they want before they check the price on line.
The radio waves are throbbing with familiar tunes we know
And children long for school to stop and for the chance of snow.
There was a time when you could spy a crêche scene set to view
But times have changed and now chances of that are few.
People get uncomfortable when their conscience is pricked
So they set rules against them that will punish and restrict.

The real point of Christmas is to pause and to reflect
On the blessings God has given us, and not to just reject
The truth of the fulfilment of ancient prophecy,
The Messiah's incarnation to save the world and me.
All across the country a special time is near,
A great date on the calendar that is very clear.
People of all races from every land and creed
Pause in reflection with us because they feel the need.
In their hearts they know the truth that cannot be denied
That Christ was born long time ago and for our sins he died.

That is why on Christmas Eve we gather round the crib,
To see again the Savior's birth like the shepherds did.
We cram into the churches filled with glowing light,
To hear the glorious music and the readings for the night.
One by one we tip the candles passing on the flame
Reverently we stand and sing "Silent Night" again.
Excitedly we leave the midnight service and go home,
To look beneath the tree and find a present of our own.
But the first real gift of Christmas of which the carols sing
Is the one true light, God's son - "Christ the Eternal King".