By Steve Crain
‘Twas the Sunday before Christmas
When all through the town
Most people wore masks
And some wore a frown.
COVID-19 scared doctors
And also the people,
Who were cautious about going
To sit under a steeple.
Church attendance
Had taken a hit,
And Brother Pastor feared
Some folk had quit.
But many were viewing
“Virtual church” on the Net.
The pastor felt relieved —
They hadn’t quit, yet.
On Sunday morning,
He preached and he preached,
Wondering how many virtual souls
He had reached.
When on the internet there
There arose such a clatter
That dear Brother Pastor
Wondered what was the matter.
“I’m watching!”
Commented Sister Sue,
Who was internet savvy
And knew what to do.
“Amen, Pastor,”
Typed Deacon Brown,
Who knew how to encourage
A pastor who’s down.
Brother Pastor saw those messages
And went straight to work.
He preached about “hope”
And turned with a jerk.
He lays a finger
Aside of his nose,
Then gives a nod,
And to his car he goes.
And they heard him exclaim
As he drove out of town,
“Merry Christmas to all;
Don’t let it get you down!”
