BEHIND THE SCENES

I passed a store whose window pane
displayed in colors bright
Assorted scenes of Christmas time
that filled me with delight,
For painted there were ringing bells
and falling flakes of snow,
Poinsettia plants and holly leaves
and sprigs of mistletoe;
A roly-poly Santa clause
waved gaily from a sled
While reindeer pulled him through the night,
one with a nose of red;
All kinds of greeting cards were shown,
and it appeared to me
That there was one of every style,
with verses to agree;
Quaint homes were decorated with
a wreath upon each door,
And cut-out scenes and strings of lights
and candles by the score;
A snowman wore a carrot nose
and peered through coal lump eyes
While high above his toppered head
firecrackers lit the skies;
A Christmas tree was pictured there,
its branches all aglow
With flashing lights and ornaments
and artificial snow;
All sorts of toys were strewn about,
so shiny and so new.
And presents for the grownup folks
were in the picture too;
Suspended from a mantle place
were stockings neatly spaced,
Each filled with fruits and candy canes
my lips could almost taste;
I saw a table amply filled
with appetizing treats
Like roasted turkeys and baked hams
and countless kind of sweets.
The splendor of that window’s art
so fully held my gaze
That I soon stood before its pane
completely in a daze;
Then suddenly a ray of light
awoke me with a its glare,
And it appeared much brighter than
the colors painted there;
From where it came, I seemed at first
unable to decide,
Then, on the surface of the paint
a scratch I soon espied;
"There’s something hid behind this scene
of Christmas pageantry,"
I thought, as I peered through the scratch
to see what it could be,
And through that tiny opening
much smaller than my eye,
I saw a star of magnitude
within an evening sky;
I scratched the paint a little more
and peered through once again;
A host of angels hovered low
while tidings they did say;
With eager curiosity
I wiped more paint away;
I saw a town of days of old
and of another land;
I saw the adoration of
a lowly shepherd band;
With anxious hands I quickly rubbed
more paint away again,
And then I saw a stable room
beneath a crowded inn,
And in that stable’s meager light
I saw a mother there;
Her eyes were filed with tenderness,
her lips with thankful prayer;
I saw three wise men of the east
bowed in humility
As they presented treasures to
someone I could not see;
I knew that more was hid behind
this painted Christmas scene;
I had to see it all and soon
had wiped the window clean;
And when at last my eyes could see
that hidden scene with ease,
With humble heart and praising tongue,
I fell upon my knees;
I saw a baby sleeping there
upon a bed of hay,
The shadow of this sinner’s cross
was falling where he lay.

ŠJ. G. Braddock Sr

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For our thoughts Valerie and I shared at Christmases past, click here: X'ed Out

and here:                      

There's a Child

For other poems by 
J. G. Braddock Sr.
Click Here: 
By Inspiration Only