Poem December 21, 1987 Issue

'Twas

Sally Seagull Johnstone

The night before Christmas
Is always a very taxing time.

Hagar sat over against her child,
Deserted and blind to the spring.
But when the angel spoke
—before the wellspring quenched their thirst—
She took the lad in her arms ...
And that was the night before Christmas.

David sat huddled in a cave
With those discontent, in debt, distressed.
While Saul yet mongered his personal war
Against the anointed king
—before the victory day—
David sang praise with a heart fixed on God ...
And that was the night before Christmas.

Mary, witness at the cross,
Stood weeping without at the tomb.
Though struggling against despair
—before she saw her risen Lord—
She sought him with all her heart ...
And that was the night before Christmas.

And what more shall I say?
For the time would fail to tell of all
The taxing-times-before-Christmas
The primitive Christian celebrates
With the faith that breaks through tinsel
To the gift of infinite Love.

Sally Seagull Johnstone

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The lights of Christmas, the light of Christ