To the Editor:
I thought you would like this to put in the paper. My Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Dora Lock, was a sweet person, and she has a lot of relatives in Vevay. I’m sure they would like her poem of Christmas.
I thank you for putting it in the paper again. It was first published in this newspaper back in the 30s when I went to Spring Branch Church.
Thanks and have a good Christmas.
Mary Alice Scudder
What Does Christmas Mean to Me?
By Mrs. Dora Lock
Merry Christmas we hear them saying
As the crowds surge to and fro.
Hastening on with Christmas shopping
All the world seems bright with glow.
Pretty bells hang in the windows,
Where the children romp with glee,
But the question is with each one,
What does Christmas mean to me?
First we enter the home of the wealthy
There they know no poverty there,
See the bright lights in the windows
Gifts of jewels shine everywhere.
Earthly treasure they have many.
But they are only things of today
Have they heard the Christmas story
How the Babe in Bethlehem lay?
Then a humble little cottage,
Sits beside the road tonight,
And we hear again the saying
Mother, this is Christmas night
Will Old Santa come to see us
As he does the ones next door?
Do you think that he will miss us
As he has in years before?
Then it’s Christmas in the White House
As it shines with radiant light
It will be Christmas in the poor house
In the darkness of the night.
It will be Christmas in the prisons,
In the walls of darkest gloom
It will be Christmas for the lonely
If there’s a chair vacant in the home.
If there had been no first Christmas
Oh how dark this world would be
are you thinking now on these things,
How much Christmas means to me.
See that tiny little infant
As it lay in Bethlehem there
No room in the inn that night.
For that mother sweet and fair.
Jesus Christ, a loving Savior
Gift sent down from Heaven to earth,
He is a gift that’s far more precious
Than a gift of costly worth.
Let us tell again the story
Tell it o’er and o’er again
How the angels sang that Christmas
Peace on earth, Good will to men.
Let us rejoice then this Christmas
How that first gift came for all
If we receive no gifts of this world
Yet we were given the best of all.
How He now awaits our coming
In that home so bright and fair
Where there’ll be no disappointment
Sorrows cannot enter There.