Christmas With Grandma Mc!

My Grandmother McMillan loved Christmas!!! The very second you walked into their home you were greeted with the love that is the essence of Christmas.  Grandmother loved the holiday season, was an amazing cook with something always good just about to come out of the oven. She was a wonderful author and avid reader of literature.  She was asked to do many programs for the different clubs she was in.  I am now the bless recipient of many of her programs she gave and I want to share them with you.  I hope they will add a new a wonderful dimension to your holiday.  I was blessed to grow up hearing many of the poems, stories and programs.  I so remember with such love sitting in their living room with Grandpa or Grandma reading to me from the Bible, storybooks, poems, etc.  We would always end the evening gathered around the old upright piano with Grandma playing the Christmas hymns and all of us singing.

The following Christmas blogs are an assortment of poems and programs that she wrote or compiled.   I am having to post several blogs because to the amount of music Grandmother had her friends sing in the programs.  I am pretty sure she accompanied many of the solosts.   Hope you enjoy and that the messages bring you closer to the real reason of the season--JESUS!

The Road to Bethlehem

Come, take the road to Bethlehem!

For on a Christmas night,

Illumined by a host of stars,

Its holy way is bright-

As bright as when an amber star

Hung poised above His bed,

And Mary bent in joyous awe

Beside a drowsy head.

The very One the Magi knew

And knelt before as King,

Will take with joy a questing heart

As richest offering.

The poorest man may lay the gold

Of worship at His feet,

And love is frankincense; and myrrh

Of sacrifice is sweet

O that we might from far

Retrace our steps through fear and might

To faith and hope and Bethlehem's light.

Here by the Babe of Bethlehem,

Is comfort for the sad;

World-weary hearts, made old by sin,

Grow young once more, and glad;

And all, both rich and poor, may come

And find a sure release

From cares that fret, and doubts that prey,

through Him, the Prince of Peace.

O Wondrous Child of Bethlehem!

O Man of Majesty!

Who lifted high above the star

The cross of Calvary!

Christ of the lowly manger,

Christ of Gethsemane,

Bless an hear this Christ night

That takes the road to Thee!

                                                                                             Dorothy Louise Thomas

Bethlehem Caravan

Charles Hannibal Voss

Over the wind-blown sands,
Under a sapphire sky,
The Magi came from Eastern lands
With frankincense, gold, and myrrh in their hands,
At the call of an Infant's cry.

By caravan trail they came,
In the silver hush of the night,
With their eyes fixed on a starry flame
That sparkled and shone for One whose name
Is Savior, and Light of Light.

Camels and men are gone,
The earth might cease to be,
But the gifts that they brought to that tiny Son
Will be remembered by everyone
Throughout eternity.

The Consecration of the                                                Edwin Markham

Common Way

The hills that had been lone and lean
Were pricking with a tender green,

And flocks were whitening over them

From all the folds of Bethlehem.

The king of Heaven had come our way,

And in a lowly stable lay:

He had descended from the sky

In answer to the world’s long cry-

Descended in a lyric burst

Of high archangels, going first

Unto the lowest and the least,

To humble bird and weary beast.

His palace was a wayside shed,

A battered manger was his bed:

An ox and ass with breathings deep

Made warm the chamber of His sleep. 

Three sparrows with a friendly sound

Were picking barley from the ground;

An early sunbeam, long and thin,

Slanted across the dark within,

And brightened in its silver fall

A cart-wheel leaning to the wall.

An ox-yoke hung upon a hook:

A worn plow with a clumsy crook

Was lying idly by the wheel.

And everywhere there was the feel

Of that sweet peace that labor brings-

The peace that dwells with homely things.

Now have the homely things been made

Sacred, and glory on them laid.

For He whose shelter was a stall,

The King was born among them all.

He came to handle saw and plane,

To use and hallow the profane:

Now is the holy not afar

In temples lighted by a star,

But where the loves and labors are.

Now that the King has gone this way,

Great are things of every day!

What Makes a Christmas?

What makes a Christmas? Is it place, or time,

A Christmas card, a holly wreath, a rhyme?

Is it a gift tied up with ribbons gay,

Does it mean Christmas when you “Merry Christmas” say?

The bells may softly chime “O Holy Night!”

The Christmas tree may glow with candle light,

The table may be spread with festive cheer

And yet no Christmas spirit hovers near.

No, Christmas is from all these things apart,

It needs but a warm and open heart;

And sorrow, pain, and fear are swept away

When Christmas comes into the heart to stay.

For Christmas is but faith, and trust, and love,

A lifting of the eyes to Him above-

The Christ who cam to earth to set men free,

God’s gift of love supreme to you and me.

And as the angel choir their anthems sing,

The story of God’s love to man they bring

,’The promise of abiding peace impart-

‘Tis Christmas when Christ dwells within the heart.

                                                                                                              -Jesse Williams

“PEACE ON EARTH”

Our God will not be mocked.  The angels’ singing

Was not vain words flung on the empty air,

But vital prophecy and truth set winging

That will not be denied.  Today’s despair

Is pierced by golden shafts.  The sunlight breaking

Its way through clouds should bid our darkness cease,

And ease our anxious hearts long numbed by aching.

There shall be peace on earth, there shall be peace!

Men will give glory to their God, and nations

Will yet turn to Him, unified at last;

Class after class of high and lowly stations

And race after race will turn, their warring past,

And brother will kneel by brother, each tongue naming

One name, and like a spring flood this release

Their pent up praise, too long withheld, proclaiming

Him Counselor, the might God, the Prince of Peace.

                                                             Grace Noll Crowell