Home for Christmas

 
'Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring...
...except the little Bunny Boy.

He came to my door all a whimper and fret,
Proclaiming in sad little tones, "I am wet!"

I gathered him up in a motherly grasp
And noticed his voice had a strange sort of rasp.

His cough was a bark and his breath came in fits
And I said to myself, "We must look into this!"

I got me a diaper and down he did lie, whereupon
We discovered that he was quite dry.

"My son, what you need is some steam for that voice."
It was off to the bathroom and he had no choice.

I turned on the shower, it didn't do much,
Except wake up Ardith, asleep on the couch.

I shut off the tap and proceeded to go
Out of the house where the winter winds blow.

We sat on the porch, inhaling cool air
In hopes that free breathing, soon would be there.

And lo and behold, the cold damp did charm,
Trevor became quite sedate in my arms.

We wandered back in and climbed up the stair,
With cuddle and kiss, to our beds did repair.

It may not be quite what we dreamed for this day,
Children are sick; home from church they must stay.

But still we remember the Child who did come,
To die on the cross and arise from the tomb
So that all who believe,
could one day,
go Home.

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