Christmas Poem
Author unknown

I have a list of folks I know, all written in a book
And every year when Christmas comes, I go and take a look,
And that is when I realize that these names are a part
Not of the book they are written in, but really of my heart.

For each name stands for someone who has crossed my path sometime,
And in the meeting they've become the rhythm in each rhyme.
And while it sounds fantastic for me to make this claim,
I really feel that I'm composed of each remembered name.

And while you may not be aware of any special link
Just meeting you has changed my life a lot more than you think.
For once I've met somebody, the years cannot erase
The memory of a pleasant word or of a friendly face.

So never think my Christmas cards are just a mere routine
Of names upon a Christmas list, forgotten in between,
For when I send a Christmas card that is addressed to you,
It is because you're on the list that I'm indebted to.

For I am but a total of the many folks I've met,
And you happen to be one of those I prefer not to forget.
And whether I have known you for many years or few,
In some ways you have a part in shaping things I do.

And every year when Christmas comes, I realize anew,
The best gifts life can offer is meeting folks like you.
And may the spirit of Christmas that forever endures
Leave its richest blessings in the hearts of you and yours.

A Full Box of Kisses
Author unknown

The story goes
that some time ago, a man punished
his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll
of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he
became infuriated when the child tried to decorate
a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl
brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, this is for you, Daddy.

He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction,
but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, don't you know that when you give someone a present,
there's supposed to be something inside?

The little girl looked up at him
with tears in her eyes and said, Oh, Daddy, it is not empty.
I blew kisses into the box. All for you, daddy. The father was crushed.
He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.

It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years
and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss
and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

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