Seven Christmases ago, my mother spent the month of December caring for a baby. The violence between his birth parents had disturbed the neighbors for long enough. The state, now his guardian, placed him in our family temporarily, just through the Christmas season until his Grandparents 2,000 miles away could prepare their home for a little one. Out of this arose a poem of hope, "Two Tiny Voices".
One tiny voice cries on throughout the night,
Amid despair and anger acted out,
'Til those outside the walls hear every shout.
Two distant hearts, in fit of rage, take flight.
Approaching sirens split the night sky.
Amid pain and confusion, voices calm
'Til soothing comes; the touch of healing balm.
In strangers arms, the babe ceases to cry.
Then, likened to a bird without a nest,
The little one stays here awhile, then there,
Instinctively desiring love. But where
Could someone without someone's love find rest?
One tiny voice cried on throughout the night
Amid the bits of cloth to shun the cold
And damp. For long ago in days of old,
Each innkeeper blew out his welcome light.
To think, that the Creator of the earth
Took on Himself an earthly form and face
And we beheld him, full of truth and grace.
Yet those He came to save denied his worth.
Then likened to a bird without a nest,
The King of Kings stayed here awhile, then there,
Expressing love as only God can share,
Knowing firsthand the need for peace and rest.
The unloved humbly washed His holy feet,
The palms of His hands dispelled rejection,
Our hearts lifted with the resurrection;
His compassion and love became complete.
So now, let us adore this holy Child.
Said Jesus to each one, "Come, follow Me."
I AM the poor, the longing to be free,
The weak, the helpless baby, the one defiled.
© Mrs. E. ~ 2001
"For God did not send His Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world should be saved through Him."