(a new look at a traditional song)
Christmas is a-comin' and I've got no work at all.
I've been out on the grubline, since shipping in the fall.
Now the days are getting colder and the nights are getting long,
so I play my old French harp, and I sing this song.
Christmas is a-comin', and I'll work to earn my keep.
Can you find a roving puncher a warm place to sleep?
If you haven't got a bunk for me, a patch of floor will do.
If you haven't got a patch of floor, may God bless you.
Christmas is a-comin', and my pony's short of feed.
A little bait of oats is what he really needs.
If you haven't got a bait of oats, a flake of hay will do.
If you haven't got a flake of hay, may God bless you.
Christmas is a-comin', and my gear is wearing thin.
Could you spare a piece of rawhide, to patch it up again?
If you haven't got some rawhide, some baling wire will do.
If you haven't got some baling wire, may God bless you.
Christmas is a-comin' , and I'm feeling kind of gaunt.
A plate of beans and bacon is all I really want.
If you haven't got the bacon, a plate of beans will do.
If you haven't got a plate of beans, may God bless you.
Christmas is a-comin', and I've been alone too long.
Do you have a pretty daughter, to sing a Christmas song?
If you haven't got a daughter, a maiden aunt will do.
If you haven't got a maiden aunt, may God bless you.
Christmas is a-comin' and I've got no work at all.
I've been out on the grubline, since shipping in the fall.
Now the days are getting colder, and the nights are getting long,
so I play my old French harp, and I sing this song.
© Dean Cook
This song may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
You can read about Dean Cook here at the BAR-D.
An Old Fashioned Christmas
I was doing some Christmas shopping
in a great big shopping mall;
there were stores on every side of it,
even set up down the hall.
I was looking for a special gift
but things all looked the same,
the clothes and toys and videos,
and those new 'lectronic games.
Another thing, in every store
that always looked the same
were signs that read: "Have an Old-Fashioned Christmas
and thank you, come again!
Now folks, I'm no spring chicken,
I've seen more than fifty Christmas' pass;
it's not the gifts that mean the most
it's all the fond memories that last.
I remember an old fashioned Christmas
when we'd chop down a fresh cedar tree;
we'd string lots of rosehips and popcorn;
the trimmin's were homemade and free.
The stockings we hung on Christmas eve
were the kind that came off of our feet
we'd always leave cookies we'd made with our moms
so Santa'd have something to eat.
Of course, Santa came every Christmas
but he'd only leave one special toy,
or maybe some clothes or a new pair of boots;
just one thing for each girl and boy.
You never were fighting no mobs or crowds
in a great big shopping mall;
we'd just go to town on Saturday night,
the local Dime Store had most all
of anything one could ever want,
and every one-horse town
was full of friends and neighbors;
folks would drive in for miles around.
The women would trade their cream and eggs
for groceries, and of course, Christmas candy;
that was the only credit back then
before Credit Cards got easy and handy.
We'd have the best Christmas programs
at the church and the old country school;
the men would all stand in the back of the room,
there was a shortage of chairs as a rule.
And remember how Grandma and Grandpa
would bring only one gift for us all?
It was usually homemade and practical
.....back then, grandparents didn't buy out the mall!
And that good old Christmas music
didn't come from no stereo set;
just dad on his fiddle, we'd all join in;
it still is the best music yet.
Speaking of dad, he'd get out the Bible
and read us that old Christmas story;
it wasn't about Santa or elves or a sleigh
but it sure filled our hearts with joy.
See, I remember an "old fashioned Christmas"
like those signs read all over that mall.
I will bet you'll agree, after listenin' to me
that the "old fashioned" kinds best of all!
© 2000, Yvonne Hollenbeck
The Annual Christmas Program
Some folks like a Broadway Musical, while some the Boston Pops;
still others go to Nashville and to them it is the tops.
But one thing I'll assure you that's much better as a rule;
it's the annual Christmas program at a one-room country school!
They haul out all the little desks and put 'em in a shed;
a stage is made with curtains sewn from sheets off teacher's bed.
The kids make all the trimmin's for the school, and for the tree;
and display their finest art work for everyone to see.
And every kid has learned their parts, they've worked for many days
a-memorizin' words and lines to poems and songs and plays.
Of course, they're not professionals like those in Broadway hits,
but you'll find no better actin' than in all their little skits.
Then usually, when the program's done, old Santa makes a show;
he's sometimes just a "look-a-like" and someone you should know.
The kids will all exchange their gifts.....of course, the homemade kind;
those gifts don't cost no money, but no one seems to mind.
And then, to top the evening off, we all get quite a treat:
"homemade Christmas cookies" that the moms have brought to eat.
So this year if you're wonderin' how to celebrate the Yule,
just try the annual Christmas program at a one-room country school!
© 2001, Yvonne Hollenbeck
You can read about Yvonne Hollenbeck here at the BAR-D.
Was a fine weather day for gathering strays
But I grumbled to Smoky, my horse
They was havin' a party and eatin' real hearty
And I was missin' it out here, of course.
Now I don't know how those danged ol' cows
And their calves got away from our gather,
But you sure could bet that the boss was upset
You could say, he was in a real lather.
He talked awful loud to this puncher crowd
And we sure enough all heard him say,
"Now, I don't know how you boys lost them cows,
But someone's ridin' on this Christmas day."
Well everyone saw that I drew the short straw
And I tried hard to be a good sport,
But old Smoky and me, we seemed to agree
In this deal, we both come up short.
We turned into a draw, and right away saw
Then cows by a clear river branch.
I started to think, "I'll just let them drink
And then push them on home to the ranch."
It was just midday as we made our way
Through the rocky, rough canyon park.
Why, we'll move them along and sing them a song,
And get them all in before dark.
Then, in rolled a storm that wasn't real warm,
For a cold wind blew from the North.
Along with the blow, white flakes of snow
Commenced fallin' for all they were worth.
The temperature fell and I sure could tell
We were in for a cold, snowy gale
And, no matter how I pushed them cows,
To the wind they'd just turn their tail.
Now, the snow's fallin' free, I could hardly see
Them cows there, ahead of my roan.
To get out of the wind, on their own they turned in
To a canyon with high walls of stone.
Then, I was sure glad that them stubborn cows had
For the wind here was just a stiff breeze.
As we drifted on down through that cleft in the ground
Right and left there were snow covered trees.
Here, the wind weren't so strong, but I would be wrong
If I claimed to be warm and dry,
Cause I was near froze, from my feet to my nose
An' startin' to think I might die.
The rock walls looked stark, it was getting dark
When, the trail to the left took a turn.
Then, I thought I could see just beyond a pine tree,
A light in a window did burn.
Though my eyes were foggy and my mind kinda groggy
Like when I'd drunk too much beer.
This here's Bar S range and it's kind of strange
There shouldn't be no one out here.
We moved toward the light, a warm, beckoning sight,
To a cabin against the rock bluff.
Made from logs cut from pine, all fitted so fine
That the wind couldn't slip in a puff.
And Off to the left in a deep, rocky cleft
A corral had been built strong and tight.
A screen from the storm, they could keep themselves warm,
So I drove the cows in for the night.
I stepped down to the ground, and that's when I found
That my cold legs would not hold my weight.
To the fence I grabbed hold and then in the cold
With a shove, I pushed shut the gate.
Then, all ganted and sore, I lurched to the door
And knocked as loud as I could.
It seemed so unreal that I could not feel
Me knuckles contacting the wood.
The door opened wide and I fell there inside
And was caught by arms hard and strong.
I was weak as a pup, so, he just scooped me up,
Set me down by the stove before long.
The fire burned bright that cold winter night.
In the warmth, I came back to my senses.
Then, I thought of my horse, the storm might get worse
And Smoky was tied to them fences.
As if reading my mind, I looked up to find
My host in his boots, coat and hat.
He said "You stay there, for your horse I will care,
Do not worry at all about that."
While he was gone, without even a yawn,
My eyes shut and I drifted to sleep.
Guess I slept for a while and awoke to a smile
And dark eyes set wide and deep.
His hair shoulder length and a sense of strength
Just seemed to come from him.
On his cheeks and his chin, on brown, weathered skin
Was a beard all neatly trimmed.
I looked him down and up as he passed me a cup
Filled with coffee, hot and dark.
The smell of that brew started filtering through,
As I sipped it, it found the mark.
Then, he offered me stew to go with the brew,
I nodded, he filled up a dish.
It tasted so good, I ate all that I could.
He said, "Have some more if you wish."
I answered, "Thank you, but I guess that'll do"
So we pulled our chairs up to the heat.
I lit up a smoke as he quietly spoke
Of how happy he was we could meet.
Then I heard him say he was born on this day
And Jesus is the name his folks gave.
I answered that "Now, I sure reckon as how
That's a right proper name for today."
We talked for a while, and, I saw him smile
When I talked about workin' with cows.
And I told, of course, 'bout the pig eyed ol' horse
Made me wallow in mud with the sows.
He told about sheep and the nights he would keep
Guard to save them from grief.
I heard him talk 'bout how some of his flock
Might could get run off by a thief.
He told of the days spent chasing those strays
To get them back to home grass safe and sound.
Their wounds he would heal and how good he's feel
Once he felt they'd be stayin' around.
Then Jesus got up and refilled my tin cup.
He offered some pie that he'd made.
I took out my old knife, cut us each a slice,
Then cleaned off the worn metal blade.
I was pretty well fed when I rolled out my bed.
From the stove, watched firelight play.
In the warmth of the embers, I couldn't remember
Having had such a fine Christmas day.
I woke the next morn, just before dawn.
The wind and the storm had passed on.
I looked at the bed where my host lay his head,
It was empty; his hat and coat gone.
As I lay there asleep, he'd gone out to his sheep,
At least, I assumed that was so.
I finally stood up and found my old cup
And filled it with fresh, hot jo.
On the stove, near the pot, still fresh and hot,
Beans and bacon, and biscuits on the side.
I ate what I could, brought in firewood,
Rolled my bed and got ready to ride.
When I got outdoors to tend to my chores
I found someone had done the deed.
It was Jesus, I guess, while I got my rest,
Gave my livestock water and feed.
So, I settled my kack on Smoky's old back,
Cinched him up and tied on my roll.
To the saddle I sat, pulled down on my hat,
Took them cows for a nice mornin' stroll.
We were ridin' light, it had been quite a night,
Got a chew from my vest for me.
I groped for my knife to cut me a slice
It was not where I knew it should be.
Then my mind wandered back to that cozy, warm shack
And the pie I'd cut by lantern light.
My knife I had placed in an empty space
On the table top late last night.
Well, now Spring's settin' in, grass is growin' again
And I'm goin' to visit my friend.
He'll sure be surprised when he sets his eyes
On this pack horse comin' 'round the bend.
I've brought coffee, dried fruit, and all kinds of loot
There's flour and sugar and such.
Brought new shirts and a hat and much more than that.
Now I'm anxious to get back in touch.
In the canyon we ride, life on every side,
There are birds of every hue.
They flitter and sing 'till the rocky walls ring
With the sounds of life born anew.
I make the turn to the left, there in a rocky cleft
There's just post where the corral had been,
And the cabin so tight on that cold winter night
Has a lean, and the roof's saggin' in.
I tie the ponies to a post, I'm white as a ghost.
What's happened since I was here last?
Was it wind or snowslide that buckled the side
And the roof of this cabin so fast?
The door fallen down, window glass scattered 'round,
I slip into the cabin so dark and damp.
As I focus my eyes I soon realize
It's weather and time that's destroyed this camp.
The pale wood spoke clear of the many year
It had taken to weather it so.
The rain and the sun had acted as one
As had the wind and the snow.
I do about face, this can't be the place
Where I spent last Christmas night.
Must have gone astray and turned the wrong way,
A mistake is what caused my plight.
As I walked to the door, there on the floor
My eyes catch a glimmer like frost.
I pick it out of the dirt, wipe it off on my shirt,
In my hand is the knife that I lost.
© 1997, George Bourbeau
Santa's wrangler had quit him, up and left him cold
It was coming on to Christmas and Santa felt too old
To be caring for them reindeer, doing all the work himself
What he needed in a hurry was a brand new wrangler elf.
So he called up the editor of the North Pole News that day,
Advertised for a new helper who would work for modest pay.
There was a nice, warm bunkhouse for when the work is through
And Mrs. Claus cooked tasty meals for all of Santa's crew.
Now Shorty'd been a wrangler, though he's a cowboy now.
He figured that them reindeer can't be worse than pushing cows,
And he's out of work this winter, ain't got nothin' else to do.
Thought he'd check in with old Santa try to sign up with his crew.
But Shorty's kinda worried 'cause he ain't so very tall
He stands just barely five foot one in high heeled boots and all,
And folks who didn't know him, of his skill in the bucking chutes
Wondered if a man his size could handle big cow brutes.
But Shorty saddled up and rode through drifted mounds of snow.
When he showed up at old Santa's door it was forty-one below.
A coat of ice broke off his chaps as he stepped off to the ground.
He knocked upon the wooden door, it made a friendly sound.
Santa hired Shorty then introduced him to each elf
And Shorty was surprised to see; they're smaller than himself.
Santa took him to the reindeer and told him "Come what might,
Those reindeer must be ready for deliveries Christmas night."
So Shorty got right on it, he forked them out fresh hay
And he thought "Now this here's easy. I reckon that I'll stay."
The next chore's trimmin' deer feet. He climbed into the pen
Carryin' his old gutline. He got right to it then.
He threw a loop at Dasher but it wasn't wide, you see
And ropin' at them antlers is like throwin' at a tree.
The next try is much better, for a bigger loop was thrown
But when he saw just what came next, old Shorty gave a groan.
The loop it caught old Dasher right smart around the neck
And the reindeer took to the sky and nearly caused a wreck.
Now Shorty's awful stubborn, of the rope he won't let go
Until he landed on the roof in a couple of feet of snow.
That night poor Shorty's tired and early went to bed
And just as he was dozin' off, that's when he turned his head
A red glow in the window gave our boy quite a fright
He pulled on boots and blue jeans and ran out into the night.
He started yellin' "Fire" as to the barn he ran
He made a racket loud enough to bring out every man.
He pulled the barn door open and grabbed a firehose
But then he felt so silly, it was only Rudolph's nose.
Santa laughed so loud that it started up the crew
'Till everyone was laughing as friends are prone to do.
But Shorty wasn't laughing, embarrassed you might say,
He feels he's looking foolish, and this is his first day.
Santa put his arm around him and said, "Don't feel so bad.
If that had been a real fire, we sure would all be glad
That you were there to notice, that you were on the ball
And your devoted action just might have saved us all."
"Now, don't you feel discouraged, be easy on yourself.
It takes more than a day to become a wrangler elf."
"To get to know those reindeer, just talk to them each day
And before you even know it, they'll be doing what you say."
So Shorty listened careful to Santa's kindly word
And within a week, he was really friendly with the herd.
Now he just had to tell them he was there to trim their feet
And each would hold their feet up 'till the job was done real neat.
When Christmas rolled around, he had the job down pat
And all of Santa's reindeer came to know his old black hat.
So Shorty went and called them when it was time to go
And the bunch of them walked over and stood in two neat rows.
Shorty got the harness our and put on all their gear
Then gave each one a friendly pat and a scratch behind the ear.
And as he watched them leaving, he felt a surge of pride
That he'd become a little part of Santa's yearly ride.
© 1996, George Bourbeau
You can read about George Bourbeau here at the BAR-D.
Another Christmas We Spend
The morning was clear
It had snowed overnight
The trees are covered
All pretty and white
Tomorrow is Christmas
We haven't a tree
Today we will find one
Bob, Old Curly, and me
Just three old cowboys
No, we ain't kids
You might think we were
By things which we did
For 10 years now
Early every Christmas Eve
We hitch up the team
And go find us a tree
Bring it back to the bunkhouse
Decorate it up right
We us things we have found
It is truly a sight
We string up some popcorn
Hang on a pinecone or two
String on some berries
An old spur we use too
Shell casings become ornaments
Our bandanas we use
From a coffee can, Bob cuts a star
Places it on the top there too
Oh, our tree ain't as fancy
As the ones there in town
But it brings smiles to our faces
No frowns will be found
Bob will break out his guitar
It has only 5 stings
A few Christmas Carols
We all three will sing
On Christmas Day
We'll all share a meal
No gift we exchange
It ain't a big deal
For we all share our friendship
Nothing else do we need
Another Christmas we spend
Bob, Old Curly, and me
One Christmas Eve
A cold day in December it was
Darkness was falling fast
I hadn't realize so much snow had fallen
It was belly deep in the pass
I had packed in supplies to the Miller line shack
Due to early snow, Bill was running low
Our regular packer had come down with the fever
I was the only one left that could go
In the spring and fall we had plenty of hands
In winter months we kept only a few
With Pete down with the fever, I had been sent
But this trail I barely knew
I had taken the wrong fork at the top of the ridge
Had gone the wrong direction for hours
Even though, I had since corrected my mistake
Still darkness would fall within the hour
Through the scattering of clouds and the dim light
I could see the ranch down below
Yet, I had at least 10 more miles of winding trail
My horse growing tired from the deep snow
The night wind blew, it's bite ever so cold
Like my horse I, too was growing tired
I began remembering stories of old...I had been told
Standing around the branding fires
I remembered ole Jim telling of the Inn at Traveler's Rest
It used to stand just around the next bend
How in weather like this, it housed weary travelers
Oh how I wish this was then
For me and Black were oh so tired
Still we had 8 more miles to go
As we neared the valley, the snow was deeper
The valley had received much more snow
I began wondering if we could even make it
The snow was so very deep
How I wished the Inn was still there
And me and Black for the night they'd keep
All of a sudden, through my half frozen eyes
A flicker of light did I see
There in the darkness stood a building
What on earth could it be
I thought I must be crazy as I came to a sign
It read "Welcome to the Inn at Traveler's Rest
Bed down your animal in the barn out back
Tonight you're our honored guest"
I have to be crazy, yes I've lost my mind
This place hadn't been here before
But there was the barn and here stood the Inn
A sign said "Welcome Come In" on the door
I didn't understand, still I went in
I must have been on the wrong trail after all
This had to be the answer, the snow is so deep
Plus I have'nt been on this trail for two falls
Inside the Inn was empty, no one was home
Only this short note had I found
"It's Christmas Eve...we had to leave
Gone to see kinfolk in town
Dear traveler , please stay the night
We know you must be tired
You'll find food in the cupboard, just help yourself
Out back there's more wood for the fire"
I added wood to the fire and bedded right down
By the fireplace I laid there beside
Early next morning when I awoke
Was when I found my biggest surprise
Here I was sitting square in the saddle
My horse I was still astride
I looked all around, not an Inn there I found
Our gate, Black stood there beside
Well, this my story, believe it or not
Me, I truly believe
You can call it a Miracle or the Spirit of Christmas
It happened to me one Christmas Eve
You can read about Woody Woodruff here at the BAR-D.
The Rest of the Story
When Christ was born in Bethlehem
Some sheepherder's saw the light,
An' heard the songs that filled the air
From an angel choir in the night.
We know this from the holy gospels
Which record the blessed event -
(Reporters all missed the cowboys,
Jest'a peepin' thru the fence.)
Some'a them wuz peeled up a bit,
From their wrecks on the way to town;
'Cuz a bronc that's seen an angel choir
Could put ol' Casey on the ground!
The trip wuz begun in search of fun
When one'a the puncher's spoke,
"There's a crowd in town for the taxin', boys -
Let's saddle up, an' take a lope."
"There'll be strangers there from all around,
An' prob'ly some purty girls,
A n' maybe, even, a dance somewhere
Where we can take 'em for a whirl."
It sounded good to the lonely hands,
Who spent so much time on the range -
Cookie wuz the only one who'd been to town,
An' everyone was needin' a change.
So they busied the washtub an' razor strap
An' fought a lot over the glass --
Broke out their best duds an' shined their boots,
Then figgered their looks'd pass.
They saddled their ponies an' hit the trail
Never dreamin' what a wild ol' night
They'd have before reachin' that Bethlehem place -
I'm tellin' ya, it wuz a sight!
First thing they noticed wuz a big ol' star
In a place where it never had been.
They begun to hear music - couldn't tell from where,
Before they'd reached Job's shearin' pens.
Then, all of a sudden, the whole sky wuz lit
By a light like they'd never saw!
Ever' cayuse stampeded a dif'rent direction,
Over hills, an' down rocky draws.
Each hand wuz so busy getting' back in control
He lost plumb track of the others -
They wish't they'd stayed in their cozy bunks,
But t'was too late now for "druthers."
Quite a bit later an' further down the trail
They drifted back together,
Congratulatin' each other in heartiest terms
For the kind of a storm they'd weathered.
"Them angels got a strange sens'a humor," sez Slim.
"One kept sayin', 'Don't be afraid!'"
"I'd a'liked to seen him stay on top of ol' Blue,
Without turnin' pale jest a shade!"
"Aw, give 'em a break. They wuz sorry," sez Clem,
"to have caused us such a storm."
"Why, one caught my bronc an' led him back to me -
Kep' him from trompin' all Samuel's corn."
Each told his tale as they rode along,
With much razzin', an' some braggin',
An' before they knew it they'd covered the miles
An' into Bethlehem town wuz draggin.
"This ol' colt's had all the ridin' he wants,"
The foreman soon did say.
"What say we hunt a liv'ry barn,
An give the brutes some hay?"
That suited one an' all jest fine,
An' soon they'd found a place -
But as Slim led his pony into the barn
He spied a lady's face.
"Beg pardon, ma'am," he blurted out,
"I thought this wuz the barn!"
She only smiled and pointed him to the hay,
Saying softly, "You'll do no harm."
"The city's so crowded, since Augustus' decree,
We could find no room in an inn.
But they gave us lodging for the night in here -
The baby's come since then."
"This ain't no place for a baby!" Slim sputtered,
"Why, lookit Him in that manger."
Still the Mother just smiled and calmly said,
"I'm sure He's in no danger."
And thus it was that all the hands,
Who cowboyed for ol' Saul Morey
Met the Savior on that night of nights -
An' now you know "the rest of the story."
© Rhonda Sedgwick Stearns
Once again it's Christmas time,
An' we ponder the old, old story,
How the holiday began
As the Lord came down from glory.
One thing always bothers me,
Bein' a cowgirl, with cowboy pride --
Somehow, somethin' went a'wry,
Why were those sheep men in the light??
Here it was, the biggest deal
That would happen on earth in ages--
Why were shepherds picked to be
Written up on holy pages?
Why'd they hear the angel choir?
Why did they get to worship Him first?
Why'd they see the heavn'ly light,
And be told of the Saviour's birth?
Here's the reason that I heard
Why such unorthodox things were done'
Cowboy angels were to blame -
They'd been havin' WAY too much fun!
They'd been pullin' cowboy pranks,
Messin' up all the other angels,
'Till Boss Angel said, "Eee-Nuff!"
"You're so bad you've near de-ranged us!"
First of all he grounded them,
Took away their ropes, spurs and saddles;
Wonderin' how he'd punish them -
For they'd plumb outgrowed the paddle.
Now, he was bent on ven'gance,
Designin' a permanent pay-back;
To hurt those cowboy angels
And not cut them one bit of slack.
"What do cowboys hate the most?"
His sinister search sought the answer.
"That's so obvious, ever'one knows,
They think sheep are rangeland cancer!"
Sheep - of course! The perfect curse!
Just the smell of 'em made cowboys mad -
How 'bout if sheep were honored,
And placed in some wonderful plan?
Boss Angel knew the answer
Once the sheep idea lit up his mind;
'Cuz right then he was plannin'
The night of God's gift to mankind.
He made song angels practice --
Learn special tunes in choir every night;
While savvy ones were busied,
Riggin' up a heavenly light.
He'd reached the point of plannin'
Just where all of these things would occur,
So the timing was perfect
For the ultimate cowboy slur.
He'd give center stage to sheep,
An' put sheepherders in the headlines --
They'd go down in history
As the ones on whom God's light shined!
Boss Angel called those cowboys,
Sayin, "You've got a lesson to learn,
I'm gon'na make you jealous,
Settin' a fire that will always burn,"
"In your teasing, scheming hearts.
I'll hopefully make you all humble,
Plus ashamed of all your pranks,
And how you've made others stumble."
Gathered like errant schoolboys,
Boss Angel made 'em all sit and watch,
While the great announcement came
To shepherds, in fields with their flocks.
No parts for cowboy angels
In that great heavenly production --
It was a total put-down,
Upstaged by wooly ol' mutton!
The scheme was so successful
Cowboys suffer o'er it yet today--
You'll notice few young cowboys
Takin' part in Sunday School plays,
A'dressin' up like shepherds
Who kept watch over smelly ol' sheep.
They're rarely cast as angels . . .
There's a character conflict, see?
An' so the cowboy angels
Got all the punishment they deserved --
They lost their place in Christmas,
Aren't mentioned in God's Holy Word.
Of course, they've been forgiven,
An' the rest of us have, just the same;
Jesus loves us as we are!
It's Christmas - let's honor His Name!!
© Rhonda Sedgwick Stearns
We're lookin' forward to more of Rhonda Sedgwick Stearns' poetry here at the BAR-D.
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