When Santa came....

Every year on Christmas eve,
The little girl stood in her tattered frock,
With tears welled up in her eyes,
Holding her empty tiny sock....

Santa never got anything for her,
No chocolates, no toys, no books,
All she did, on each Christmas eve,
Was cleaning floors and dirty nooks....

Her heart pined each time,
For gifts, colorful and bright,
But she never got anything, poor dear,
Though she stayed up crying all night,

This year was no different,
She sat alone in her room,
The mistress walked in, uncaring,
And handed her a broom....

She could take it no more,
She threw the broom and ran to church,
She knelt down with folded hands under Jesus,
Her innocent eyes, still in search....

And then he entered from somewhere,
And took her in his arms,
She looked up, all of a sudden,
And saw him, smiling and calm....

He took her to a lovely place,
Gave her a new home,
Jesus had finally answered her prayers,
Today her Santa had come!!!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

Blessed or Cursed?

Blessed with eyes, but no time to stop and stare,

Blessed with ears, but kind words are just so rare,

Blessed with a voice, but cannot sing the heart's song,

Blessed with a mind, but no control over the wrong,

Blessed with legs, but gates closed everywhere,

Blessed with hands, but few to hold onto and care,

Blessed with a heart, that keeps getting hurt,

Blessed with so much, but is it all really worth,

All the pain?, my question unanswered,

Are we really blessed or cursed?