Poetry |
|
Elaine Pitler
|
Once in a land in a far off place
Somewhere between here and outer space, Wiggling and squirming for all he was worth, A little tree poked his head through the earth. "It's almost Christmas, is it not meant to be, Will I ever become a Christmas tree? Oh, dear Lord, whatever shall I do. I try and I try but I can't make it through." "Be not distressed, "God's spirit spoke to the tree, Grow not for yourself. Grow for me." "Wow," sang the tree, with new hope in his heart, He reached and he stretched and took a new start. The warmth of the sun felt so good, He stretched his branches as far as he could. Oh, if only he could grow big and tall, But try as he might - he still was small. Winter came and so did the snow. He tried and tried and still didn't grow. The little tree was feeling oh so bad, He hung down his branches and was sad. "Oh dear, oh dear," the little tree cried, For no matter how hard he tried He just was little - he just stayed small, He simply could not grow at all. A big tree heard his weeping sound And looking down on the ground His voice echoed loud and clear For the little tree to hear. "Little brother, do not grieve Spread your branches and believe. No matter the shape - no matter the size We are all special in God's eyes." Before Christmas with no time to lose, A family arrived in the woods to choose What for them would be Their own special Christmas tree. They wanted only to pick out the best, To their son Luke, one stood out from the rest. He ran over to it, shouting with glee, "Oh Mama, Papa, this is the very best tree." "But," said his Mama, "It really is very small, How about one that is straight and tall?" "Oh Mama, Papa, don't you see This one is little, just like me." And Papa nodded all the while, Mama smiled her Mama smile, And of course they did agree That this would be their Christmas tree. And as they went upon their way, Did they hear the big tree say? "No matter the shape - no matter the size, We are all special in God's eyes." In the window for all to see They placed the proud little tree. And Luke hung with loving care A bright star and a little angel there. Along with red bulbs and tinsel bright While carols sounded through the night, And the angel sang for all to hear "Christmas has come - Christmas is here." No matter the shape - no matter the size, We are all special in God's eyes." And the little tree echoed then, "Amen" "Amen" "Amen" (Dedicated to my grandson, Luke David Pasek)
|