Me and Niki shortly after Jacquie was diagnosed with Porphyria around November 1996.

It's Christmas time again, and the kids are sound asleep
I sit and study them closely, and try not to make a peep.

Remembering Christmas's gone by, and the way things used to be
I seem to uncover, once again, the little child in me.

I recall, the story of Christmas, that my parents always told
That wasn't of Santa or presents; but the gift as good as gold.

I asked my daughter what it meant to her, she smiled and said (out of the blue)
"It's when Santa comes and brings us toys, and it's someone's birthday, too.".

Well, we talked about the baby in the manger, and why he came
And why, for the sin of this whole world, it was he who felt the shame.

I tried to explain (in my mother's words) as closely as I could
And at the end, I was satisfied that she really understood.

So ask my little girl what Christmas means, and old thoughts be sacrificed
She'll tell you it's not Santa Claus: but the birth of Jesus Christ!!!!!

Written by Jacquie Cox - December 1987