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Mama’s telling brought alive His wondrous birth to Bitsy, five.
She told her child that Jesus came to tell the truth in His name.
Christmas is a celebration for God’s Son who saved the nations.
“He came to give each one His love--Now He lives in heaven above.”
Bitsy’s tender heart was stirred from the story she’d just heard.
“Could I make a gift for Him, like the Kings in Bethlehem?”
“Cookies, Mama?” Bitsy paused, “He can share wif Santa Claus.”
Mama thought, sweet innocence, but at five this made sense.
Mama lit the lantern’s wick, “What kind do you suppose He’d pick?”
Mama’s words were softly spoken as she pondered her child’s token.
Unpacking now their advent wreath, Bitsy lisped--she had missing teeth,
“Oatmeal wif raithens and gooey chips, and ice cold milk for them to sip.”
She hoped to bake all by herself the gatherings from the pantry shelf,
“You’ll need my help,” Mama smiled at her enthusiastic child.
When Bitsy said prayers that night, the cookies were within her sight.
“I know thum got broke in two, but they’re my Christmas gift to you.”
“They’re the first I ever baked--hope you didn’t want a cake.”
Her drowsy eyes began to close as cookie treats teased her nose.
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