|Dedicated to the beloved children of Newtown, Connecticut|
Why must a mother mourn her son at Christmas?
Why must a father lose his daughter fair?
How will we bear the sorrow of this season,
when days ago their laughter filled the air?
No longer do their faces light the morning.
Each day, the sun falls hard on empty chairs.
When will our eyes stop searching for their presence...
our ears stop hearing small steps on the stairs?
How can a father turn his heart to Christmas,
when evil robs his home of love and joy?
How can a mother heal her stricken family,
while her soul mourns one shining girl or boy?
How cruel to take them when the bells were ringing,
as old St. Nick was packing up his sleigh.
The gifts around the tree hold little meaning
with none to open them on Christmas day.
Why must the Yule be tainted with such anguish?
Let death choose January, still and bleak.
The birth of Christ should ne'er be scarred by horror.
Give back the downy hair, the rosy cheek.
Give back the peace that once was ours to cherish.
Return to us the hope that saves and heals.
Raise up the fallen, never more to perish.
Remind us of the way redemption feels.
The answer comes from heaven; can you hear it...
as angel voices light the darkened skies?
For unto you is born this day a Savior,
good tidings of great joy for all mankind.
What better time than Christmas to find solace,
to contemplate the message of His birth?
One day, the good shall overcome the wicked,
and Christ shall reign in glory on this earth.
In that great day, all things will be restored.
The pains of death will leave nary a trace.
Till then, we look to Christ for loving comfort,
and find our children safe in His embrace.