by Sam Ward ’21
Though, first and fifteenth left no guarantee,
Wrapped presents with bows stuck under the tree,
But the sentiment meant so much more to me.
O holy Child of Bethlehem
More than the Xbox or bikes you bought,
The treasures would be for naught,
If it had not been for your careful thought.
Descend to us, we pray
When the snow carries the day away,
I know spirits rise from eternal decay,
A holiday mood not present yesterday.
Cast out our sin and enter in
And when tomorrow comes, hold me still,
Make sure I act with goodwill,
The change does not start on Capitol Hill.
Be born to us today.