Your Christmas will be sad,” somebody said,
“Because so recently you mourn your dead.”
But were it not for Christmas, I would weep
As those that have no hope for them that sleep.
For by His coming, Christ has given me
The blessed hope of immortality,
The strength to wait throughout the lonely years.
Until He wipes away my burning tears.
And so, dear heart, though you are gone from me,
I’ll find rich gifts beneath my Christmas tree-
The happy memories of cherished days
When hand in hand we walked our pilgrim’s way.
Your tender love for me, your shielding care-
For all of these I raise a grateful prayer.
So through my tear-dimmed eyes, my dearest dear,
I whisper, “Christmas won’t be sad this year.”
~Hildegard Van Waveren
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