Poem December 22, 1945 Issue

Our Gift

GRACE K. STICHT

As swiftly through the silent night
They rode from lands afar,
Three Wisemen searching for the Christ
Were guided by a star.

They found a manger held the babe,
There offered gifts so sweet
Of gold and frankincense and myrrh
And laid them at his feet.

Oh, may we seek the Christ today
As Wisemen did of old,
Bring him our adoration pure
For frankincense and gold.

Our gift—to feed the hungry heart
And dry the bitter tear;
For when we serve with unselfed love,
Behold, the Christ is here!

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No Unhappy Christmastide!
December 22, 1945
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