Stratton Methodist Church

A Christmas Poem

What could he bring?

What could he bring? by Helen Kinnett

Over a stable in Bethlehem, a star appeared,

As a special day, the birth of a child, neared,

Throughout the world, it foretold of an event,

A little, poor boy, wondered what it meant?

A beacon of hope glowing in the night,

A world that was dark, was suddenly light,

Sprinkling its gentle warmth all around,

Showing where Jesus could be found,

The little, poor boy thought hard and realised then,

It was the sign of a baby, the Saviour of Men,

But how could a little, poor boy, ever have known,

Who the precious baby would become, when grown?

A gift so rare, a gift beyond compare,

Blessing of God, compassion and care.

The new star in the east, glowed bright,

It guided the wise men as it shone every night,

The little, poor boy, he also had a desire,

To follow that star, guided by the light of its fire.

The wise men had travelled on a journey so bold,

To bring their gifts, the first was gold,

For the second gift, they spared no expense,

Fragrant and sweet, it was frankincense,

The baby king from his slumber did stir,

As the third gift was given, it was myrrh.

After those generous wise men had left,

The little, poor boy stayed but he felt bereft,

Just a little, poor boy, what could he bring,

As a gift to honour the new baby king?

He didn’t have any money, costly gifts, or treasures of worth,

But he did understand the true meaning of Jesus’ birth,

This baby, like him, was just a child,

But such love shone from his face, so meek and mild,

The little, poor boy suddenly felt reassured,

He didn’t need gifts that he couldn’t afford,

He had no gold, frankincense, or myrrh, like the wise men,

So the little, poor boy thought hard and had a better idea then,

By the smile of the baby boy, he was inspired,

To worship the child, was all he desired,

The little, poor boy, suddenly he felt glad,

For the one small gift that he genuinely had,

What he could give was, give himself, he did decide,

So he softly played his drum for Jesus, with pride,

He had brought a valuable gift, a priceless treasure,

He had shared his talent that gave him pleasure,

He had brought the most precious gift of all,

He had brought his love, by answering God’s call,

The little, poor boy just loved as he gave Jesus his heart that night,

And the baby king Jesus, brought a dark world, hope, with his light,

And the little, poor boy had followed that star above,

With his reward from Jesus, immeasurable love.