A Christmas Visit

I came across this heretofore unpublished poem from 1989 in my family files,
and find it still resonates.  Posted by permission.


A Scottish Martha

© 1989 Karen Kathleen Miller



Wee Maisie was a housewife who was tiny, neat and clean.
She ran a bed and breakfast by the sea.
She heard from all her customers of places far away,
While urging them to have a cup of tea.

One night three kings came knocking at the door when it was late.
She fortunately had a room to spare.
She never liked to turn away good folk into the night
And entertaining royalty was rare.

“Come ben the hoos,” she said with great politeness and with pride.
“Ye’ll surely need to rest yer legs awhile.
I’ve got the fire burning and the scones put on to warm.
The water’s hot and won’t take lang to bile.”

“And whar will you be travelling to sae close to Christmastime?
Ye’ll surely miss yer wives an’ bairns an’ a?
The weather is sae dark and weet for you to leave yer hame.
Your camels won’t enjoy the snow at a’!”

The kings each had a scone and tea and then a cake or two.
The fire crackled warmly in the grate.
“We have,” they said, “seen signs which we have watched for many years.
We must leave shortly lest we are too late.”
                                                  
“A star is in the heavens that our God has sent to guide.
We don’t know how much farther it will be.
But when it stops, beneath it we will find a little child,
A King, the Christ, to set all people free.

“And death will be defeated and the world at last be won,
And God will claim us all to be his own.
The chains of evil will be loosed, the debt at last be paid;
God’s mighty plan of love and peace be known.”

“Weel! That sounds fine!” wee Maisie said. “Do have anither cake.
And tell me, do you mean to leave sae soon?
I’ve porridge for yer breakfast and clean linen on yer beds,
And after all, ye’ve paid to stay till noon.”

“And yet ye’ve brought a memory of stories lang ago.
I hardly ken noo what they used to say
Of angels, shepherds, aye and kings, a baby in a stall;
Perhaps I ought to join you on yer way.
                     
“I’ll tell you what! I’ll catch you up when all my jobs are done.
I’ll stuff my turkey quick ‘afore I go.
My presents need delivering, my pudding needs to steam.
I cannae leave my tree oot in the snow!”

The kings said they would wait for her that night but not for long.
They packed the camels and set on their way.
Wee Maisie went to work to get her Christmas labours done.
Her house was scrubbed and set in bright array.

Her tree was trimmed and lightly lit with gingerbread and sweets,
Her holly wreath was set upon the door.
She gave out all her presents wrapped with little tartan bows.
As each task was completed there seemed more.
                                               
At last she smiled in triumph as her final job was done.
She washed her face and changed into a frock.
She put her shawl about her head, her brollie on her arm,
And as she reached the door glanced at the clock.

“But mercy me,” she cried, “I didna ken I wis sae lang!
It’s midnight noo and Christmas has begun.
I’ve missed the kings for sure and they’ll be weel upon their way.
I’ll have to lift my skirts and fairly run!”

But ah, the smell of turkey and the pudding and the pies,
They drew her one more time in through the door.
And there the crackling fire was, the tree, her rocking chair.
Was ever mortal tempted thus before?

“Och weel!” she said, “I never kent what it was all aboot.
A baby I can see most every day.”
She hung her cloak and brollie up and nestled by the fire.
“I’m ready noo fer Christmas anyway.”

(Ah Maisie, Maisie, can’t you see you’ve missed the point again?
The Christmas season always seems to fly.
Outside there’s dark, the needs are great, and if you listen hard
You’ll hear your Lord and Saviour passing by.

From our despair and misery we certainly need saved.
From war and want the world cries for relief.
But first from lethargy and fear deliver us, good Lord;
Plant in us now the seed of firm belief.

And from this seed bring forth a tree of searching and of love.
Let all our branches reach for God on high;
Help us to put our Saviour first in all we think and do,
And all our preparations, sanctify.

That night wee Maisie, quite contrite, composed a humble prayer.
“Dear Lord, I ken I should have thought of you.
But noo I’ll try again and look for you in all my days.”
And God Almighty whispered, “It will do.”

So Christmas after Christmas now wee Maisie is inspired.
She cooks and bakes and doesn’t need to roam.
In all her preparations she remembers Jesus first;
He’s central to her life and to her home.

Let’s dedicate, like Maisie, all our Christmas labour too;
Let work and prayer be moulded into one
Till all the world and every home with us and ours can say,
We’re ready now; e’en so Lord Jesus come.



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