It doesn’t come from the store.

It was the night before Christmas,

And all through the trailer,

The children had no warm clothes,

Not even one layer.

No cookies for Santa.

No tree for presents.

They could not afford them,

They were just humble peasants.

But inside that mobile home,

Something was different.

The children were laughing,

Even the infant.

How could they be happy?

You insist that it's fictional.

To the world they have nothing,

Their entertainment isn't digital.

I wish we'd look up,

From our material things.

And make time to show love,

To other human beings.