Christmas Rose

A Rose has sprung from a tender root, From Jesus, as those of old have sung, And it bore a flower, in the middle of a cold winter, When helf spent was the night. Isaiah foretold it, the Rose I have in mind; Is Mary the pure, the little flower has brought us. From God's eternal wisdon, she bore a child, And remained pure. The Flower, so small, whose sweet fragrance fills the air, Dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere; True man and truer God, helps us out of all sorrows, Saves from sin and death. Oh Jesus, until we leave this misery, Let your help guide us into joy, In Your Father's Kingdon, where we eternally praise You. Oh God, allow us this. ------------------------------------------------- Translated from the early 15th century German poem "Es ist ein Ros' Entsprungen." Author unknown. The music is from the Alte Katholische Geistliche Kirchengesäng, 1599 (Old Catholic Spiritual Church Songs) -------------------------------------- Maybe the christmas rose is different than mine but i want this rose to be my christmas rose ------------------------------------------------------ somewhere i read this lovely poem... for everybody who beleive in the christmas rose .................................................... SANTA'S SECRET WISH --------------- On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes, Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise, And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee, "I want your secret, tell it to me." He leaned up & whispered in Santa's good ear, "How do you do it, year after year?" "I want to know how, as you travel about, Giving gifts here & there, you never run out. How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys, You have plenty for all of the world's girls & boys? Stays so full, never empties as you make your way From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large & small, From nation to nation, reaching them all? And Santa smiled kindly & said to the boy, "Don't ask me hard questions. Don't you want a toy?" But the child shook his head, and Santa could see That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me," He told the small boy with the light in his eyes, "My secret will make you sadder & wise. "The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride. But although I do visit each girl & each boy I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy. Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad. Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad. Some homes are broken, & children there grieve. Those homes I visit, but what should I leave? "My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff, But for homes where despair lives, toys aren't enough. So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl & boy, And pray with them that they'll be given the joy Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives. If only God hears me & answers my prayer, When I visit next year, what I will find there Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love And boys and girls gifted with light from above. It's a very had task, my smart little brother, To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others. But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed, For God has a way of meeting each need. "That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth, Is that my sack is magic, And that is the truth. In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day More love than a Santa could e'er give away. The sack never empties of love, or of joys 'Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes. Not just toys. The more that I give, the fuller it seems, Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams. "And do you know something? You've got a sack, too. It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you. It never gets empty, it's full from the start. It's the centre of lights, and of love. It's your heart. And if on this Christmas you want to help me, Don't be so concerned with your gifts 'neath your tree. Open that sack, call your heart, & share Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care." The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing. "Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going." "Wait, little boy," said Santa "don't go. Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?" And just for a moment the small boy stood still, Touched his heart with his small hand & whispered, "I will.

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