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Christmas is Peace,
Were it not,
Then it were a travesty and should not be.

Christmas is Love,
The family bonds of birth
Which mark us all as one.
Were it anger or irritation
It were a travesty and should not be.

Christmas is the coming together
Of friends in happiness.
It is Reconciliation.
It seeks that which binds
Rather than that which divides.
Were it not, it were a travesty
And should not be.

Christmas is the joy of promise fulfilled.
It is the Word made flesh,
The hope, in an imperfect world,
Of redemption.
Which buying back demands a clear and vibrant sight
That sees alone the good which lies in others;
That hears only the purity of tone
Within the neighbouring voice;
That senses uniquely the crying need for love
In others.
If it were not
It were a travesty and should not be.

Christmas is a childlike time
Of children's magic
Which calls on all to wear bright childhood's cloak;
The garb of innocence
Which asks not "Why?" but rather asks "Why not?"
And is the passport to a better life.
Woe to those who seek to tear that cloak,
Who break the magic with a bitter tongue
Or with selfish adult arrogance
Crush innocence
Beneath the stone of self-indulgent pride.
They perpetrate a travesty
Which must and cannot be.

Christmas is Love.
And Peace.
And Childhood.
In this manger dogs have no place.


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