An infant, born in a stable, swaddled in rags and lay in a manger of barn wood,
A young boy, found in a temple, understanding more than he should.
A carpenter, who walked many a stone path, amongst the lonely and weak,
A man of prayer, who alone in the mountains, to His Father did speak.
A  teacher, who prepared hearts and minds, for the treacherous journey ahead
A Savior, who carried His own cross, so that we could have life instead.
A King, who rose on the third day,
Walks amongst us continuing to show and to say,
A Father, to each of you who know
It is through the birth of a baby, My love, I do show.