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Beneath a lighted Christmas tree
sitting on my great Grandpa's knee
holding his special gift to me
We played the game, shake and guess.
Package was too small for a dress.
Must be a diamond necklace!
But I couldn't hear a rattling sound,
when I shook this little box around.
I looked up at Grandpa and frowned.
He said, "I will give you a hint.
It is white with a crimson tint.
It's valuable and Heaven sent.”
Oh, what could this special gift be,
that Grandpa was offering me?
Which had set many sinners free.
It was weightless like a feather.
Not made of satin, nor leather.
More precious than Spring time heather.
This riddle with knowledge to gain,
was slowly driving me insane,
and teasing my immature brain.
I guessed a million times that night,
but I never did get it right,
and I would have to wait till daylight.
The tiny gift labeled with my name,
that stumped me at the guessing game,
was opened when Christmas morn came.
The gift I could not hear, or see,
was unwrapped upon Grandpa’s knee,
and this time, he had suprised me.
Seven blood-stained petals lay within
a shiny silver box of tin,
to remind me of forgiven sin.
Upon twisted dogwood limbs they grow,
as soft and pure as winter snow,
stained with His blood’s precious flow.
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