A Simple Story Wrapped in Glory

It’s simple things that matter most,

Like Christmas morn with jam and toast,

Or snowflakes falling on the lawn,

And a white-tailed doe with newborn fawn.

It’s simple things I appreciate,

Like sweet-smelling cookies on a plate,

Or whiffs of pinecones in the air

And the scent of candles everywhere.

It’s simple things that make me shine,

Like my husband’s hand, held warm in mine,

Or the frigid air, so clear and fresh.

The whispered weight of winter’s breath.

It’s simple things I’m thankful for,

Like carols sung brightly at my door,

Or jingle bells on an olden sleigh,

As through the woods, I make my way.

It’s simple things that make me smile,

Held deep inside me all the while,

Like the sun upon a mother’s face,

As she holds her babe with tender grace.

It’s simple things, I do believe,

Like Wise Men, who on Christmas Eve,

Searched for a star in darkened sky,

Rejoicing at the infant’s cry.

It’s simple things we quite well know,

Like love that’s true and pure as snow,

Or a newborn child in a manger born,

To heal our hearts in a world that’s torn.