Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, read more

Christmas in Bethlehem. The ancient dream: a cold, clear night made brilliant by a glorious star, the smell of incense, shepherds and wise men falling to their knees in adoration of the sweet baby, the incarnation of perfect love.

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and read more

Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if
it is a headache, a chore, and a nightmare, it is a period of
necessary defrosting of chilled hidebound hearts.

From Home to home, and heart to heart, from one place to another. The warmth and joy of Christmas, brings read more

From Home to home, and heart to heart, from one place to another. The warmth and joy of Christmas, brings us closer to each other.

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
read more

'Twas the night before Christman, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,--not even a mouse:
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the read more

I am not alone at all, I thought. I was never alone at all. And that, of course, is the message of Christmas. We are never alone. Not when the night is darkest, the wind coldest, the world seemingly most indifferent. For this is still the time God chooses.

The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the read more

The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
read more

No trumpet-blast profound
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was born;
No bloody streamlet stained
Earth's silver rivers on the sacred morn.

England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
read more

England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.

There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.

There's nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child.