The Empty Stocking

As we approach the season of the year when we celebrate Jesus' birth, I often hear (and just as often join in) criticism of people who lose the true meaning of the holiday in the 'trappings' of the celebration. However, in all truthfulness, I have detected over the past few years, my own losses in the way of maintaining the "Christmas Spirit", that is, remembering and centering the birth of Christ at the center of my own celebration of Christmas.
The other night, while the whole family was folding Timken instruction sheets, we watched The Bishop's Wife (really good Christmas movie)(highly recommend). At the end, the Bishop gives his Christmas service, and it starts like this(may be paraphrased somewhat:-)): "Tonight I will tell you the story of an empty stocking." The empty stocking, he goes on to say, belongs to Jesus, and it is empty, because people do not give themselves to Him. I was thinking about it, and I had been wanting to write some poetry lately. So this is what came out of about...maybe a half an hour-45 minutes worth of typing:(nods and apologies to the author of The Night Before Christmas:-))

The Empty Stocking
by Caleb Pieplow

‘Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung
By the chimney with care
All, that is, but one
There was no room to spare.

Amid the gay tinsel
And the lights’ warm blush
This stocking lay well hidden
Forgotten in the holiday rush.

Above, one child peered down
His eyes wide with hope as He looked on all the trim
Would this year be the one?
The year when they’d remember Him?

But when the morning came
And the children sprang from their beds
The gift tag inscriptions only
Danced ‘round in their heads.

And the stocking of Bethlehem’s Child
Was not filled
But took its usual place in the background
As around the tree they milled.


They did not read the story
Of when the Blessed One came to Earth
Or how the angels heralded
His unexplainable birth.

And yet again, they went to their beds
Without a hymn or even praying
And once again, He turned back
Saddened by His empty stocking.

Years pass, the sands of time sift through
And in many homes the Christ Child still is disappointed
As His day passes vainly by
Stripped of the purpose for which it was appointed.

Now, friend, let me make it plain to you
The ‘stuffers’ for which He inquires
Are not to be found in toyshop windows
But in fact, love-laden human hearts are what He desires!

Will someone remember Him this Christmas?
Will someone fill our Savior’s stocking, too?
The Child born so long ago
God’s perfect gift - for me and you.

So in this season of hope and good cheer
Let’s fill up that lonely stocking
With love, with praise, and with our lives
May we remember whose birth we are celebrating.

And may we exclaim, ere we scramble for cookies and gifts
“Happy birthday, dear Jesus!
We offer ourselves this day to you,
Heaven’s perfect Son, come to rescue us!”



Merry Christmas!

postscript:

I will soon add the details of our trip!:-)