written by Anna Owens December 16, 1988
Dear Jesus,
This is my first Christmas, and I really don't know what to do.
I can't open any presents, and I can only smile and coo.
You see, dear Jesus, I watched my mother as she wrapped the gifts with joy,
And I thought I heard her say she had even bought me a little toy.
Our Christmas tree is so special, with each ball placed in the right place.
And presents wrapped real pretty with my mother's special taste.
The other day I overheard her talking, and she seemed to say,
That one time, you were a baby, and Christmas was your special birthday.
She said something about you being, a light to all the world,
and that you came to save us, the different kinds of people, even little boys and girls.
I know you'll take care of me, as you did before I was born.
And that you'll bless my mother and daddy, on this Christmas morn.
And all the presents underneath the tree, represent your love,
As you watch out for each one of us, from your throne above.
This poem was written by my beloved grandmother when I was only 3 months old. The first time I heard it was at her funeral just a week ago.
My grandmother was a special lady-strong, vivacious, and God-fearing. I count it as a great blessing to know that even in the nursing home, my grandmother was still a bright light to others. Once, one of the nurses told my mother of how my grandmother could pray- which made us both smile. It's soothing to know that a relationship with the Lord can run that deep. One would certainly say that the "force was strong with that one."
Her poems have also always touched me. She has written hundreds of poems throughout her life, only sharing about a handful with family and friends. They touch me so, because all of them- and I do mean ALL OF THEM were written about Jesus. He was truly her muse.
May you all be blessed by this poem as much as it blessed me.
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