When Christmas Was a Manger

When Christmas Was a Manger

Christmas was never wrapped in shining paper,

It arrived on straw beneath a borrowed roof.

No music played, no crowds stood waiting,

Only a mother, a child, and heaven watching close.

It was not poured into glasses or raised in excess,

Not measured by how much was spent or shown.

The first gift rested in a manger,

Small enough for hands, great enough for the world.

There were no busy streets or hurried buying,

No promises sold for a moment of cheer.

There was a star that stayed faithful,

Leading hearts willing to bow and believe.

Christmas lives where humility begins,

In quiet moments that remember His name.

It breathes in kindness, forgiveness, and grace,

In love that gives without asking for more.

The world grew loud and lost the reason,

Trading wonder for noise and demand.

Still the manger waits in its simplicity,

Unchanged, patient, calling us back.

Jesus did not come seeking riches,

He came asking for hearts made ready.

A season of remembrance, not indulgence,

A time to love as we have been loved.

So let this Christmas be gentle again,

Let it honour the truth of that night.

For it was never about buying or drinking,

It was about our Lord, and the gift of His life.