It seemed it would be another grim and dismal Xmas... Dad was out of work again, we'd received final notice on the overdue gas bill and our sorry excuse for a Xmas tree looked like it had the mange... Yes, it seemed as though we might only have the stringed popcorn on the tree for Xmas dinner... And now the final calamity:

Our worn and beaten nativity scene, that'd once been scavenged out of a Salvation Army drop off box, had been scattered over the floor by the dog... I managed to piece back together the walls and roof while my siblings searched across the tattered carpet and unstuffed sofa for the pieces... We found the figures of Joseph and Mary, the little manger with its broken leg... We found a Donkey and the Brahma Bull (borrowed from a cowboy set) and two of the three Wise Men (the dog had chewed up and eaten the other one)... But we searched and searched and couldn't find the little baby Jesus...

We were all standing there feeling kind of glum and hopeless, Yes it looked like another Dismal Xmas, when suddenly an ethereal light filled the room and unearthly music danced upon the air...

Dad yelled, "Turn off that radio!" (It was Burl Ives singing, "Have a Holly Jolly Xmas") while some car's headlights shone through the window blinds...

I stepped back, and just then, felt something crunch under my heel... And that my friends, is how I found Jesus...