the strain on fractured nerves,
the drain of hard-won dollars,
spent on must�have toys,
fill with cheerless dance
the emptiness that yawns,
pretend we do not notice
the greed and happenstance
that fuels our Yuletide frenzy?
with no gift but God!
star�led over sand.
Kneel with shepherds and kings
before a manger bed.
See Heaven's treasure hurled
into the bleak abyss
of our sin�weary world,
and in a Baby's cry
find Christmas once again.
IL, where she is active in the Army corps
and writes fiction, poetry and other
works. Her last appointment before
retirement was as Editor-in-Chief
and National Literary Secretary.