We recieved this poem in a card from one of the venerated olds in our church - a revelation!
It's a bit 1950's but I thought it was worth sharing.
If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family
I am just another decorator.
If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas Puddings, prepareing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtimes, but do not show love to my family
I am just another cook.
If I work at a soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity, but do not show love to my family
it profits me nothing.
If i trim the spruce wioth shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choirs cantata, but do not focus on Christ
I have missed the point.
Love stops the cooking demands to hug a child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss her husband
Love is kind, although harried and tired
Love doesn't envy another's home that has co-ordinated Christmas china and table linen
Love doesn't yell at the children to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.
Love doesn;t give only to those that cna give in return, but rejoices in giving to those who can't
Love bears all things, believes all things hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
Computer games will break, cashmere jumpers will wear out and golf cliubs will get lost,
But giving the gift of love will endure.
Anon.
