by P.Z. Mann
The Whittles lived in Humbleburg,
As poor as poor can be,
But all their neighbors loved them,
For their generosity.
For though the Whittles' shelves were bare,
Their cottage tumbledown,
When Christmas came they made a toy,
For every child in town.
One Christmas Eve they climbed in bed,
After all the toys were made;
And while they dreamed of better times,
The Whittles were repaid.
That night three Christmas angels came,
To give them a reward --
For heaven won't let any act
Of kindness be ignored.
One angel searched the cupboard
And found just a crust of bread;
"Now, this won't do", she whispered,
"Let's prepare a feast instead!"
The angels flapped their magic wings,
As only they are able,
And in a flash a flood of food
Filled all the shelves and table!
The tiny house still looked quite drab,
It needed to be cheered;
And as the angels waved their wings,
A Christmas tree appeared!
Two angels trimmed the pretty tree;
The third flew to and fro,
Hanging bells and holly boughs,
And sprigs of mistletoe.
Outside, the angels dressed the house
With icicles and snow,
And on the door they placed a wreath,
Complete with a bright red bow!
They finished all they came to do,
Before the break of day,
And as the Whittles roused from sleep,
The angels flew away.
Now, when the Whittles saw the food
And all the decoration,
They pinched themselves and wept for joy,
Then danced in celebration!
As word spread through the village
Of their heaven-sent surprise;
Every Humbleburger came
To see with their own two eyes!
The Whittles shared their Christmas feast-
They emptied all the shelves;
Their kindness wouldn't let them keep
Good fortune to themselves.
When everyone had cleaned their plate,
They all joined in a song;
And up above-though no one heard-
The angels sang along!