Poem August 2, 1975 Issue

OUR DAILY CHRISTMAS

Jill Gooding

I sat upon a sand dune
In August's noontide heat;
I watched the bathers in the sea,
I saw the full-blown wheat;
And gently, as I sat there,
I felt the Christ so near,
I knew that Christmas wasn't something
A single day each year.

Right then, without the carols,
The presents, or the tree,
The Christ-idea dawned in my thought
As clearly as could be.
I felt the warmth of "God is Love"—
His care embracing me;
The firmness of the rock of Truth,
Upholding, strong and free.

O Christ, within each consciousness,
Help us to feel each day
That Christmas is a "happening"
As we watch, and love, and pray.

Jill Gooding

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