The Blessed Christ Child

By Rebecca Todd Archibald

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When angels came that holy night,

They did not visit kings;

A large and glorious army

Never heard them sing.

It was not in a palace

The angels came to earth—

But on a lonely hillside

They told of Jesus’s birth.

They appeared to humble shepherds

Tending their flocks by night

And told them of the Christ child

While the star shone so bright.

If we can be like shepherds,

Humble, pure, and mild,

We, too, can know the Savior,

Once the blessed Christ child.

Nativity © Cary Henrie; do not copy