The Tradition Continues as we celebrate His birth....

           A Christmas poem from years ago

The Perfect Tree

High upon a lonely hill, above the town below

Wintry winds begin to swirl...the snow began to blow.

Trudging through the wintry mix, each step measured like the other;

Walking with my Mom and Dad, my two sisters and my brother.

Off on our yearly conquest to find the perfect tree,

To decorate for Christmas...in one week, it would be

A time of great excitement, of laughter and jubilation;

A special time that fills each heart with joyous celebration.

'Twas there upon that precipice, there stood a tree so small

That everyone overlooked it because it was not tall.

Its branches looked like matchsticks; its tiny, barren limbs

Barely felt the winter's cold that encircled them.

Standing like a sentry, in silence, he would guard;

 There alone to keep his watch upon this vacant yard.

My family, they marched onward; but I...I stopped to see

This tiny wisp of God’s creation…...this sparse, unproven tree.

I pleaded with my Mom and Dad, '"Let's take this little tree!

I know it doesn't look like much, but imagine the possibilities..."

A row of lights, some shiny balls; the tinsel placed just right.

It would command attention on that very special night.

For I'm sure that the shepherds and probably the Wiseman, too

Wondered about a tiny child and what he would someday do;

For He would set God's people free and fill those He met with grace...

And those who gazed on the manger's babe had seen the Father's face.

So, in each Christmas season, remember that the perfect tree

Is the one that became the Cross of Christ….

The one He bore to Calvary.

For the real story of each Christmas Season

Has special meaning for you and me….

As we celebrate God‘s unspeakable gift and remember

The Perfect Tree!

W. Patrick Queen @  Christmas 2011