It's not the Christmas season, or feasts, or trees, or things, but the Christ sent down from heaven, of Whom the glad heart sings.
It's not the gift of Christmas, or the greetings, novel, gay, but the Gift of gifts, Christ Jesus, for Whom we're glad alway.
It's not the glitter and sparkle of tinsel and stars so bright, but Jesus for Whom we're thankful, for He Who is dearest and best.
It's Jesus of Bethlehem's manger, of Nazareth, of Calvary, too, arisen, ascended, returning, God's wonderful Savior for you!
By Unknown?
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