Our Christmas is a spree to buy those toys,
we rush to stores to buy and buy and buy
and even though we moan at bills and sigh
at wonder-gifts to little girls and boys,
unwrapping gaily playing in their joys,
for childish happiness is such a high
and our parental giggles -- my oh my,
we celebrate our gifts and happy noise.

We wonder have we sorely missed the point,
something in the tinsel we have missed,
in all our wondered laughings oh so gay,
but is there someone we've not loved nor kissed;
mayhap forgot to kindly love anoint,
and missed the reason for our holiday?

Our Christmas is about the things that please us,
we wrap our gifts and sing the songs that tease us,
but when the party's done,
and we have had our fun,
let's hear a rousing "Happy Birthday Jesus!"