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More poems about the Birth of the Saviour
CANDY CANES
We place many of them on the Christmas tree,
Put them on our gifts to look pretty as can be,
Some suck them, others chomp, it is up to you,
We stick lighted ones on the lawn for all to view.
Is it because they all look so festive and pretty?
Or that they taste good and so pepper-minty
Or does the real reason of them come through?
For they are a symbol of a shepherds staff so true.
It is more than shepherds seeing Him that night,
After hearing the angels sing with pure delight,
Just stop and think, who lay in that stable bare,
Who was born, who was it who lay humbly there?
Here lay the Good Shepherd, the Master of the fold,
That babe born in a stable so deprived and cold,
Partner with God, creator of the universe sublime,
The Saviour, our Good Shepherd, Jesus the divine.
So when you place the candy canes on the tree,
Ask, “Do I belong to the Good Shepherd, am I free”?
Am I in His fold? Does He really know my name,
Or as I think of this, do I bow my head in shame.
Do I know the Good Shepherd’s still small voice,
Do I follow Him by making the wiser, good choice?
I hope one day my Shepherd will call me by name,
And that it will be in heaven, not in a place of shame.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson December 1, 2002