Pastor Scott’s Page

I like to share with you one of my favorite poems that is recited many times during the Advent and Christmas seasons. May it bless you, and it has
blessed me.
God Bless,
Pastor Scott

The Story of the Christmas Guest
by Helen Steiner Rice

It happened one day at December’s end some neighbors called on an old-
time friend. And they found his shop so meager and mean, Made gay with
a thousand boughs of green. And old Conrad was sitting with face ashine,
When he suddenly stopped as he stitched the twine. And he said, “My
friends, at dawn today, When the cock was crowing the night away, The
Lord appeared in a dream to me. And He said, ‘I’m coming your guest to
So I’ve been busy with feet astir, Strewing my shop with fir branches.
The table is spread, the kettle is shined, and the holly is twined over the
rafters. And now I’ll wait for my Lord to appear; And listen closely so I will
hear, His steps as he nears my humble place. And I’ll open the door, and I’ll
look into his face.”
Then his friends went home and left Conrad alone, For this was the
happiest day he had known. Long since his family had passed away.
And Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas Day. But he knew that this
Christmas would be the dearest and best with the Lord as his Christmas
So he listened with only joy in his heart, And with every sound, he would
rise with a start, And look for the Lord to be at his door, Like the vision that
he had had a few hours before. So he ran to the window after hearing a
sound, But all he could see on the snow-covered ground; was a shabby
beggar whose shoes were torn. And all his clothes were ragged and worn.
But old Conrad was touched and went to the door and said, “Your feet must
be cold and sore. I have some shoes in my shop for you. And I have a
coat to keep you warmer, too.”

So with a grateful heart, the man went away. But Conrad noticed the time
of day. And he wondered what made the dear Lord so late, And how much
longer he’d have to wait. Then he heard another knock, and he ran to the
door, But it was only a stranger once more. A bent old lady with a black
shawl and a bundle of kindling piled on her back. But she asked only for a
place to rest, a place that was reserved for Conrad’s great guest. Her
voice seemed to plead, “Don’t send me away; let me rest this Christmas
Day.” So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup And told her to sit at the table
and sup.
After she had left, he was dismayed, For he saw the hours slipping away.
The Lord had not come as He said He would, And Conrad felt sure he had
misunderstood. When out of the stillness, he heard a cry. “Please help me
and tell me – Where am I?” So again, he opened his closed door And stood
disappointed as twice before. It was a child who had wandered away And
was lost from her family on Christmas Day. Again Conrad’s heart was
heavy and sad, But he knew he could make this little girl glad. So he called
her in, and he wiped her tears,
And he quieted all of her childish fears.
Then he led her back to her home once more, And as he entered his own
darkened door, He knew that the Lord was not coming today, For the
hours of Christmas had all passed away. So he went to his room, and he
knelt to pray. And He said, “Lord, why did you delay? What kept You from
coming to call on me? I wanted so much Your face to see.”
Then softly, in the silence, a voice he heard. “Lift your head – I have kept
My word. Three times my shadow crossed your floor. Three times I came
to your lowly door. I was the beggar with bruised, cold feet; I was the
woman you gave something to eat; I was the child on the homeless street.
Three times I knocked, three times I came in, And each time, I found the
warmth of a friend. Of all the gifts, love is the best. I was honored to be
your Christmas guest.

Pastor Scott