When homes are gay with holly wreaths, with mistletoe and pine,
while childish hearts sing out with joy, in faith that is sublime.
While gala packages are heaped beneath the Christmas trees,
and snowflakes lightly flutter down in twilight's playful breeze.

While logs are heaped upon the flame, while music low and sweet,
fills halls and stairs and upper rooms with joy that's most complete.
While festive boards are heaped with food, and candles gleam and glow,
while greeting cards and messages come from the ones we know.

While many white-robed choirs sing, while heads are bowed in prayer,
and tears escape, in loneliness for one who is not there.
While all these things and many more, help make our season gay,
let us remember, in our joy, the meaning of this day.

Author Unknown