‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, except Macy the Mouse.
She stuffed all the stockings with things she had made—
Lovely gifts for her friends, yet few pennies she paid.
When out of the window a rosy glow revealed,
Not a sleigh, but a manger and a dear tiny babe!
He was dressed all in rags from his head to his foot.
But around him were presents the three Kings had put.
His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.
His sweet little mouth was drawn up like a bow.
Only the years would tell the anguish he’d know.
He was chubby and plump like a baby should be—
Macy smiled when she saw him, her heart filled with glee.
“What do I have that I would dare give
to the Christ-child, this babe, for whom I will live?
Surely things that I make could never surpass
the wealth at his feet, the gold he’s amassed.
The feet of the Savior! So cute, yet so bare!
How cold they must be in the Winter’s night air!”
She ran back to her room, wrapped her latest creation.
Then slowly made her way through the crowd and commotion.
A gift for His feet, to His mother Macy gave.
He kicked as he wore them … memories Macy would save.
As she reluctantly entered her small abode,
Macy knew in her heart there would never be woe …
… As long as she made things. She’d be ready to give
when the Savior child asked her. For this she would live.
*****This is the third (and final?) part to a poem inspired by a felted mouse I was given as a gift. To read the first two parts click here and here. Macy, Genevieve and I wish you the very merriest of Christmases and a Happy New Year! See you in 2014!