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  • Writer's pictureMission

A Poem on Christmas

When I come near the manger,

Then I come near the cross.

The Babe who slept in Bethlehem

Came down despite the cost.

The Prince of greatest splendor there,

The Man of Sorrows here.

The Babe wrapped in swaddling clothes

Came to break our chains of fear.

The cry that pierced the silent night

Was the cry upon the tree.

The Babe of hope, the Man of love--

My dearest Savior see.

- Mission


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