Christmas was always special
And my memories make me smile.
Even when the times were rough
The sadness left for a little while.

I tried not to wake up so early
But it was impossible to sleep.
My brain was in a dither
Wondering which gifts I got to keep.

I just had to rush downstairs
To see what Santa brought
And I was always hopeful
The old guy might be caught.

For most of my younger years
I thought Santa was real.
Unfortunately to my dismay
He wasn’t the real deal.

Even when I learned that fact
My joy of Christmas didn’t fade.
I just looked at it differently
Nothing could make it degrade.

Now that I’m an older man,
I’ve taken a different view.
The real meaning of Christmas
Is important to renew.

The word within the word
Tells the real story.
It’s not about gifts or Santa
But God in all His glory.

I wish the entire world
Would remember the old hymn
About the special baby born
In a manger in Bethlehem.

It seems we have forgotten
The true meaning of the time.
I want to bring it back again
With just a bit of rhyme.

By John Grote
Almost Christmas 2025