It had been a lovely Christmas,
But the gift that she had wanted,
Was not inside her stocking,
She at first was disappointed.
But then she found a letter,
With a gift card placed inside,
She was to go out shopping,
Her own choice to decide.
So, a few days after Christmas,
She happily set forth.
The gift card safely in her bag,
To buy its money’s worth.
The gift she had requested,
Was a golden cross and chain.
Which in the shopping precinct,
She surely could obtain.
The shop was so inviting,
Christmas goods still on display.
Cosmetics, jewellery, perfume,
So beautiful and gay.
She lingered with the perfume,
Her romantic heart was torn.
How exciting for such fragrance,
Her body to adorn.
Cosmetics, so intriguing,
But as yet she never had,
Perhaps when a little older,
Of these she would be glad.
The jewellery was brilliant,
Temptation all around.
But she wanted most the symbol,
Which Jesus Christ had crowned.
Then, turning to the counter,
A picture barred her way,
Of Ethiopian Children,
She could not turn away.
Do they know it’s Christmas?
Said the caption, ‘Will you give?’
To let them know it’s Christmas,
And for food that they might live.
In her bag the gift card waited,
Her tears began to fall.
She’d had a lovely Christmas,
But they’d had none at all.
She lifted out the gift card,
Her sacrifice was made,
The value of the cross and chain,
To ‘Ethiopian Aid.’
Then home to face her parents,
No golden cross to show,
But in her heart and in her eyes,
There shone a golden glow.
Written in 1986.
Copyright Doris Darbyshire