The Holy Child
© copyright Carl Fritsche 1985, 2000
Author: Carl Fritsche
The Holy Child

See the Holy Child, sleeping in His mother’s arms.
Resting quietly in a Manger.
Wrapped in swaddling clothes.
See the shepherds adore Him, praising Him on bended knee.
Wise men bring Him gold and Silver, this was meant to be.
All these things we hear about.
Every year at this time.
But tell me what it means to you.
Do you really love Him?
Do you feel the Joy?
See the Boy in the temple, listening intently to the teachers.
Asking questions and amazing, all who saw Him there.
See the Man on the mountain, speaking to the gathered crowd.
Teaching us of truth and mercy, teaching us of love.
All these things we hear about.
Every year at this time.
But tell me what it means to you.
Do you really love Him?
Do you hear His call?
See the suffering Servant, thorns upon His brow.
Mocked and shamed He bears the burden of all our sins.
All these things we hear about.
Every year at this time.
But tell me what it means to you.
Do you really love Him?
Do you feel the pain?
See the risen Savior; see the Lord and King,
See the One who is faithful and true, all of the saints adore You.
See the One who's the First and the Last, He whom before all crowns are cast,
for He is worthy to receive, the power, and wealth, and wisdom, and strength,
and glory, and honor, and praise!
For He alone is Holy, He alone is Holy.
See the Holy Child, see the Holy Child.