“Christmastime at Our House,” Friend, Dec. 1972, 48
It’s Christmastime at our house;
Sweet carols fill the air,
A tall spruce by the window
Spills stardust here and there.
It’s Christmas in the kitchen
Where warm and spicy smells
Hint of fruitcakes and cookies
Shaped like stars and ringing bells.
It’s Christmas round the fireplace
With stories told and read;
Then little ones say silent prayers
Before they go to bed.
It’s Christmastime at our house,
And love is in the air
For Jesus born so long ago
And dear ones everywhere.