'Twas the night before Christmas
And it's getting late,
At last we are ready-
The kids just can't wait.
The turkey is thawing,
The fruitcake is sliced,
Yes, we're in a big way
For the birthday of Christ.
We've had our cantatas
And candles we've burned,
And all the tradtion
Our children have learned.
We climbed in our beds
In the snow's mystic light,
For an old secret spirit
Makes a visit tonight.
And soon in a slumber,
Yet slightly awake
I sat like Belshazzar,
My knees, they did shake.
For what to my wondering eyes
Did appear
But a great host of people
Which stirred up my fear.
Why, Daniel and Isaac
And Joseph and Paul
And Wesley and Luther
And John Knox, and all.
Reformers, Puritans,
All witness my fright;
They look so foreboding:
What a terrible sight!
"What's this idol," says one,
Who points at the tree,
And all of this magic,
For the children to see?
You claim you're a Christian,
Where'd you learn all this junk?
Don't you hear hear from the preacher...
Or is he some monk?
This reproach is so shameful
We just had to come
And try to awaken
A remnant...or some.
Don't you know of our his'try
And sacrifice, too?
Must you keep false tradtions,
Hell's hullabaloo?
Come, Josiah and Asa
And Hezekiah, all;
Now grab the big cedar
And we'll make it fall.
On, Joshua and Caleb,
You all grab the wreath;
Let's grind it to powder,
Put the devil beneath.
Let's desecrate Nimrod,
His yule log and such,
Now out with the holly,
And, for the last touch-
We'll ask Christ's forgiveness
And mercy for you;
It may be your children,
At least, will be true.
Oh, what has been happening?
It's surely not real.
Can it be for a moment
The truth was revealed?
Are those folks I debated
Til the wee hours last night
And I said were so crazy...
Could it be they were right?
Dare I look in the Scriptures
And dusty old books?
Can I face all my friends
And the odd, nasty looks?
If I should decide
Would my business be hurt?
Will the price be too precious?
Could it cost me my shirt?
And what of the Children?
Wouldn't they be deprived?
Of things they don't need
And trinkets contrived?!!!
Away, you old devil;
I'll stand like a man.
I'll trust in my Saviour
And keep His command.
I'll search out the Scriptures,
From false idols we'll keep-
Whether Roman or pagan,
And then we can sleep.
With prayer for revival,
June Griffith
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