The road to Santa Claus,
The blessed time of childhood
That meant so much. . . because
It held the tinseled magic
Of fairyland array,
When all the world was laughter. . .
And life was only play.
Christmas is remembering. . .
A tree ablaze with light,
The family gathered closely
And knowing deep delight.
Exchanging gifts and sharing,
The gaiety and song
That star the festive season. . .
Each time it comes along.
Christmas is remembering. . .
Our friends who're far and near,
By giving and receiving. . .
A season always dear.
The mistletoe and holly,
As scarlet tapers glow,
The Christ Child in a manger. . .
So very long ago.

By Hilda Butler Farr