A few years ago, our church’s Christmas production included selected individuals telling their own Christmas stories. One of the storytellers, Keri, came from an addiction fueled life on the streets. Her journey to Jesus and sobriety began with an anonymous gift given to her by someone handing out food in Vancouver’s downtown east side. I tell her story from the viewpoint of our Heavenly Father in “Christmas Seed.”
All day you walk, trudge, shuffle, stumble, limp
and yet not ever do you leave My sight.
I see the slightest quiver of past’s corpse
when through the haze you think, It’s Christmas night.
I lead you then to Oppenheimer Park
where friends of Mine are serving soup and gifts.
I nudge the girl, get her to catch your eye.
The parcel’s in your hand, you feel its heft.
My heart applauds when you snap golden bow
peel off the amethyst and ruby wrap.
Your happy smile shines through the rain and cold.
This lovely candle will become a crop.
For you are worthy, loved and beautiful.
And though you have no home to bring it to
this gift is just a start, My darling girl
of the sweet home to which I’m leading you.
© 2013 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)