The Babe of Bethlehem

Tiny hands reach for his mother’s caress, hushed in her loving embrace.

Small fingers curl around Joseph’s hand. Trusted to keep him safe.

One day His hands, ten lepers will cleanse,

Straighten bend limbs, bring grief to an end,

Raise from the dead a cherished friend.

All from the Babe of Bethlehem.

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Jesus awakens, his tiny feet kick the crude manger filled with hay.

Shepherds adore, heavenly choirs sing. Distant looms the day,

Obedient feet to the garden wend, Calvary’s cross with courage ascend,

Step from the tomb, death’s victory end.

All from the Babe of Bethlehem.

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The world he created denied him room. Will I also turn away?

Above the confusing noise of sin, I hear him gently say.

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I’ll not forget thee, I’ve graven thee. Graven upon my palms.

Sorrow, discouragement fade away. Fear and anxiety calm.

Darkness retreats as the light descends, with peace on earth good will t’ward men.

In gratitude every knee will bend,

To worship the Babe of Bethlehem.