General Chat

That's lovely She!

She That poem nearly brought me to tears to eyes. So sad for that poor little boy. Sue

The Orphan and The Christmas Tree By Edward C. Colwell I'd like to tell a story as it was told to me, Of a child who had no one and a lonely Christmas tree, The little tree stood on a hill, not very far from here And pined away the lonely hours, for no other trees were near. The playful wind, to cheer it, would do the very best And in its boughs, some blue jays once, tried to build a nest But still its deep-felt sorrow, it seemed, would never end For there alone upon the hill, it didn't have a friend. One day a little orphan boy came walking up the hill From somewhere in the valley, the wind was sharp and chill. He stood beside the Christmas tree, and tear rolled down his cheek, And through the pain of sorrow said, "If you could only speak!" "I'd tell you of the good folks who share their home with me, And I don't want to fail them--they think I'm brave, you see-- So I can't let them see me cry; 'twould only make them sad, But this is my first Christmas without my mom and dad." With trembling lips and eyes so dimmed by tears he could not see, He there collapsed and cried and cried beside the Christmas tree. Now here's a fact most folks don't know; each year on Christmas Day, God grants that little trees can talk if they have things to sayl And so it was, this little tree, so touched by what it heard Tossed wildly by the icy winds, looked down and said these words, "Please, dry your tears and talk to me, for I am lonely too. Together we can chase the clouds and bring back the skies of blue." Well that is how it started, and they talked most all day long. And lo! the shades of sadness were dimmed and almost gone. The tree spoke words of wisdom, bringing comfort to the boy, And told him of God's Heaven where his parents knew great joy. And that someday he'd be summoned to join them round the Throne In a place where there's no sorrow and parting is not known. Where young folks stay forever young and grandmas age no more; And so 'twill be eternally beyond God's golden door. By now the shades of Eventide were settling o'er the snow; The colored lights of Christmas lit the village far below. A smile was on the dear orphan's face, and though one lingering tear Slid down his cheek, his eyes reavealed he'd vanished every fear. Years fled; he grew from boy to man, from blond to ancient gray, And with each year, he cherished more, the memory of that day. But times he wonders, if things were--the way that they had seemed Or if, in his deep sorrow, he fell asleep and dreamed.

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