The First Christmas by Marian Swinger
It never snows at Christmas in that dry and dusty land.
Instead of freezing blizzards, there are palms and drifting sands
and years ago a stable and a most unusual star
and three wise men who followed it by camel, not by car,
while, sleepy on the quiet hills, a shepherd gave a cry.
He'd seen a crowd of angels in the silent, starlit sky.
In the stable, ox and ass stood very still and calm
and gazed upon the baby, safe and snug in Mary's arms.
And Joseph, lost in shadows, face lit by an oil lamp's glow
stood wondering, that first Christmas Day, two thousand years ago.
This postcard is from the estate of Clara Waldron
and was written to Clara in 1914.
It was a gift to the Frontenac Museum from Marilla Gardner