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by Hilda Butler Farr  The road to Santa Claus, The blessed time of childhood That meant so much...because It held the tinseled magic Of fairyland array, When all the world was laughter... And life was only play.  Christmas is remembering... A tree ablaze with light, The family gathered closely And knowing deep delight. Exchanging gifts and sharing, The gaiety and song That star the festive season... Each time it comes along.  Christmas is remembering... Our friends who're far and near, By giving and receiving... A season always dear. The mistletoe and holly, As scarlet tapers glow, The Christ Child in a manger... So very long ago.   |