I am not a religious person. I would best describe myself as agnostic, with a drop of humanism and a splash of Buddhism added. I am also very mindful of the fact that the little, purple frog-deity, with the bulging eyes, could actually turn out to be the Supreme Being. So I am making some accommodation for this, as I would hate to get on the wrong side of him.
That said, I absolutely love the power and mysticism of the Christmas Story, as told year upon year.
An abiding memory of my very early school days, is that one December, the teacher brought out, along with all the decorations, a big Christmas book which was beautifully illustrated and written entirely in verse. It depicted the wonderful story of Mary, Joseph and the Babe in a Manger. It was just magical.
Whilst remembering those happy times and thinking of the big book that charmed us all, I have written a poem for those of my friends who are fortunate enough to have a dedicated faith, and might like to share these verses with a child.
The Little Christmas Donkey
Have you heard the story from many years ago
Of a little donkey’s journey through the bitter winter snow?
His owners’ names were Mary and Joseph of Judea,
Who lived and worked in Nazareth, and just to make it clear:
The great Augustus Caesar, Emperor of Rome,
Decreed that every citizen should straightway leave their home,
And go back to their birthplace, despite their social station,
Where a census would define the demographics of the nation.
Mary on the donkey, with Joseph at her side,
Took the road to Bethlehem, a long and dangerous ride.
Nine months ago, a seraphim, white robed with angel wings,
Told Mary she would bear a child who’d be the king of kings.
And people would bring gifts for him, to celebrate his birth
Then he would be revered in every country on this earth.
Although the child was lowly born, he’d be to Heaven raised,
Where, as God Incarnate, he would be forever praised.
It was a cold and frosty night and just before the dawn,
Mary knew her baby, was shortly to be born.
Joseph went from door to door to find a place to stay,
But from each house that he called at, he was rudely turned away.
Finally, a kind man said that though he was unable,
To offer them a room, that they could bed down in the stable.
So Mary had her baby and laid him in a manger,
And surrounded by the animals, he was in no danger.
Wise men came to greet him and bring him, so we’re told,
Precious gifts of frankincense, myrrh and purest gold.
Shepherds came and brought their lambs, just as the angel said
And they came to worship Jesus in that lowly cattle shed.
Maggie Smart
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