I came across this heretofore unpublished poem from 1989 in my family files,
and find it still resonates. Posted by permission.
“Weel! That sounds
fine!” wee Maisie said. “Do have anither cake.
“Och weel!” she said,
“I never kent what it was all aboot.
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.”
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?
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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