T’was the First Christmas – A Christmas Poem

A Maiden, humble, lowly
A city, not her own
Caught in pangs of birth
And save but one, there all alone
No comforts, just a stable
In Judea’s countryside
T’was the first Christmas
And God was to arrive
Just Joseph, filled with questions
With Mary, his betrothed
No one there to help
He walks this strange mysterious road
A son he’ll soon name Jesus
As the angel bid him so
T’was the first Christmas
But this he could not know
The Baby, in the manger
Three wise men bearing gifts
Shepherds tending flocks
Make hills look white with snowy drifts
Angels singing heralds
Of the newborn Christ and King
T’was the first Christmas
Of which all men would sing
But the gift was never opened
By thankful, finger tips
Instead, in time, was ripped and torn
By cruel, mocking whips
Instead of scarlet ribbon
Nicely tied and neatly bowed
T’was laced with blood from out
His wounded side had flowed
The Gift of life was purchased
With His death on Calvary
And although t’was freely given
It cost the Savior everything
An old rugged cross
Was the first of Christmas trees
Where the royal gift was given
Eternal life for you and me.

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