TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE JESUS CAME

Twas the night before Jesus came, when all through the house,

not a creature was praying, no one in the house.

The Bibles were laying on the shelf without care,

in hopes that Jesus would not soon come there.                                                                                      

The children were dressed to crawl into bed,

not once ever kneeling or bowing their head,

And Mother in her rocker with baby on her lap,

was watching the late show while I took a nap.

While out of the East there rang such a clatter,

I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew with a flash,                                                                                                              

tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

When what to my wandering eyes should appear,

but angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.                                                                                             

With light like the sun sending forth a bright ray,

I knew in a moment that this was the day.

The light of his face made me cover my head,

it was Jesus returning just as He said.

Though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,

I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.

In the Book of Life which he held in His hand,

was written the name of every saved man.

He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,

when He said it's not here, my head hung in shame.

The people whose names had been written with love,

He gathered to take to His Father above.

With those who were ready He rose with a sound,

and all of the rest were left standing around.

I fell to my knees, but it was too late,

I had waited too long, and thus sealed my fate,

I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight,

oh, if only I had been ready tonight.

In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,

the coming of Jesus is drawing near.

There is only one life and when the last call,       

we will find that the Bible was true after all.