{OCC} T’was the Week Before Processing

IMG_20141122_145918Twas the week before processing, when all through the warehouse
All the workers were stirring, yes, even a mouse.
The decorations were hung on the trees with great care
Knowing volunteers soon would be there.

 

IMG_20141124_185103The boxes were piled all snug on their pallets,
While visions of blessing kids danced in their heads.
The Collection Door opens, more boxes come in.
Operation Christmas Child makes us all grin.

 

IMG_20141125_125935When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the entrance I flew on that date,
Turned on the lights and threw open the gate.

 

IMG_20141126_153602The moon on the crest of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature train, driving by with great cheer.

 

IMG_20141128_095013With a little black pickup, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it had to be Rick.
More rapid than eagles his minions they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

 

IMG_20141209_180435“Now Sarah! now, Kelly! now, Eggy and Kandi!
On, Nicole! On, Rick-O! On S’rena and Dara!
To the front of the crowd! to the edge of the stage!
Now sing away! Sing away! Sing away all!”

 

IMG_20141202_141710As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So into the trailers the cartons they flew,
With boxes full of Toys, and lots of prayer too.

 

IMG_20141129_180141And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my ear
The singing and laughing of each volunteer.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the slick walkway Phil came with a bound.

 

IMG_20141129_174500He was dressed in a shoe box from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all colored with red and bright green.
A bundle of boxes he processed with friends,
And he loved taping boxes, the last hand to process them.

 

IMG_20141125_184657Her eyes-how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fur of her coat was as white as the snow.

 

IMG_20141212_115024The stump of a tree he held tight in his teeth,
And the chocolate encircled his feet like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!

 

IMG_20141213_145716He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And processed the boxes, then turned to the clerk.
And folding his hands and bowing his head,
And giving a nod, a blessing prayer he said!

 

IMG_20141215_102322They were bright red and green, piled high on the shelf,
And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of myself!
They were processed so quickly, and went the world ’round.
I happily knew they were Uganda bound.

 

IMG_20141216_145046He sprang to his truck, to his group gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them all shout, ‘ere they drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”

The First Coming

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you have a fun, safe, happy time with family and friends. See you next year!Christmas 2012

The First Coming
by Madeleine L’Engle

He did not wait until the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time,
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine. He did not wait

till hearts were pure. In joy he came
to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!_MG_4771

The Morning Glory

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I awaken to the glory of the morn’,
sunshine streaking, birds cheerfully cheeping,
another day is born.

The Morning Glory inaudibly climbs,
and shares its shy beauty, so rare.
And, we know that behind its mystery,
Our Creative God is there.

He blesses us with sunshine,
He blesses us with rain,
because it’s only through the showers,
that do we not, remain the same.

So, as this new day awakens,
and I’m cradled securely in Your arms,
May Your love forever keep me safe,
and sheltered from all storms.

Sandra Lewis Pringle~