A Real Christmas

Just a fairy story or maybe childhood dreams

Is that what Christmas really means?

Along with Enid Blyton, or stories that we know,

Has Christmas come to be a myth to make our spirits glow?

And as we all grow older and cynical become,

It’s so easy to forget that it’s all about God’s Son

A child in a manger, and straw for his bed

All lost in the mire of that old cattle shed.

A tea towel, some old curtains all donned on the kids,

To create the best nativity, that no one should miss.

Oh it is a wondrous story of Mary, Joseph and Child,

Of shepherds and Kings with Jesus meek and mild.

But what of the truth, away from the myth

What can we learn from all of this?

That God became flesh and dwelt here below,

To fulfil what was written so long, long ago.

And here’s the reality it’s no fairytale.

There’s grace, there’s love and a wonderful feel

And it’s all because, Christmas is real.

Dave Russon, hospital chaplain

A Real Christmas - poetry