Like Strands of Shining Tinsel
Like strands of shining tinsel,
Hope will ever weave
Through his sorrow, who remembers
Candles Christmas Eve.
His tongue will not grow bitter
Who learns in youth the glory
Of the old sweet Christmas carols
And the manger story.
Nor love and faith quite vanish
For one with memories
Of dreams come true on laden,
Star-tipped Christmas trees.
So fill the house with fragrance
Of cedar boughs, with laughter--
These are gifts a child heart
Will keep forever after.
~Edith Romig Fuller