The Blessed Christ Child

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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.

[illustration] Nativity © Cary Henrie; do not copy