At this time, Fiorella is stepping aside for a poem called The Sacred Child (copyrighted)....
Two thousand years ago, the kings bowed down
And from their packs, three costly gifts brought forth--
Gold, frankincense, and myrrh were due the crown
Upon the wobbly head still wet from birth....
Two thousand years ago, the shepherds came
And bent their shaggy heads in mumbled prayer
To call upon the power of his name,
A baby, helpless in his mother's care....
Ten thousand years, the mother smiled
To know the joy of heaven at her breast
Her future's hope, her God's own child,
Who mewed at her disturbance of his rest....
Two thousand years today, lest we forget
That every child is Christ among us yet
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