The Lowly Manger

The Lowly Manger


I was created without a word to say,
Always being used, I often held hay.

Stuck in a dim corner, light barely shone on my boards
Abused and uncared for, all types of animals were my lords.

Who really cared for me, a lowly manger
When all accounted me for anything less than a stranger?

As night follows day, strangers arrive
No one cares if I'm dead or alive.

Holding straw for bedding and hay to eat,
Both were my master and are for me, no treat.

Used by day and forgotten by night,
Any one else would have gained fright.

Hot in summer, and in winter - cold.
An ageless servant, so I grow old.

Middle of night, and strangers appear.
Rearranging my burden - why do I not fear?

What is this light? From whence did it come?
Fresh straw and tender burden - what is this sum?

Music from nowhere and all bow unto me?
What have I done to deserve such dignity?

But wait - Can it be? This burden so tender and mild…!?
Praise unto God - I am holding the Christ Child !