Gift to the Christchild

Every year the youth in our ward have a fireside called "The gift of the Christchild". When I read this poem earlier this year, I knew that this is what I was giving. My feelings are close to the surface in anticipation of Blake leaving the MTC tomorrow and heading out to Russia. This sure sums up how I feel.



This Year for Christmas
By Connie Warner from Centerville, Utah
I skipped the sales after Thanksgiving.
The thrill just wasn't there.
No pictures taken with Santa Clause,
my decorating has no flair.
His presents are shoes, shirts, and ties,
two suits and socks...no fun.
I've bought him all white clothes because...
This year I'm giving Christ my son.
I've spent more time in the temple,
felt strength come from His words.
I've reread November's Ensign,
and my testimony stirred.
Our family prays more frequently
My tears are quick to run.
Abraham seems closer because,
This year I'm giving Christ my son.
I wonder how those Lamanite mothers,
gave their sons to war?
Or how the pioneers choose Zion,
their sacrifice was so much more.
My loss will be his presence,
I'll miss his smile a ton
For two years we will pray for him,
I'm giving Christ my son.
I stare at his face when he's not looking.
I memorize his eyes, their shine.
He's always hungered for the part of him,
that makes his soul divine.
The stories and lessons he always heard,
His choice and mine are one.
I'll put my faith in God's hand,
This year, I'm giving Him my son.
Past gifts have lost their glitter,
I think I finally understand
Christ's birth should be celebrated by giving Him a hand.
It's because I know Christ lives and reigns
that all his packings done.
My gift has taken years to make,
This year...
I'm giving Christ my son.


Imagine me trying to read this to the youth. I was prepared with a box of tissues. Hopefully we will hear from him tomorrow!!!!