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ROOM FOR ONE MORE
‘If all of the world saw the Christmas sky filling
With angels whose wings were silver and shimmering,
Who sang with their voices chiming and ringing,
Until all life on earth heard every last word
Of Jesus new-born,
Think how happy they’d be,’ Chad said, with a smile,
‘But the happiest of all would be the fierce crocodile.’
‘Stop right there, Chad,’ Miss McPherson fizzed,
‘That Nativity stable is staying just as it is,
With sweet baby Jesus asleep in His crib;
Mary and Joseph; the shepherds knelt down,
Three Kings all a’twinkle, wearing their crowns.
With a cow and a donkey; lambs sweet as the child,
And nowhere, Chad, nowhere, a fierce crocodile.’
‘Well, that’s not fair! Why not give him a trial?’
Chad cried, holding up his toy crocodile.
‘Because,’ Sharnia frowned, ‘a crocodile eats
Ears, toes and fingers like packets of sweets.’
Chad was cool. ‘I agree. But Jesus,’ he said,
‘Came not just to love the sweet and the kind,
Or wise Kings a’twinkle with sparkling minds.
He came to love everyone, even those we don’t like,
The mean and the vile,
With their cruel sharp teeth and their sharp cruel smile.
That’s how I know He’ll love my crocodile.’
Miss McPherson said, ‘Chad, that is very true.
Jesus loves lambs but He loves crocodiles, too.
And as I look at the Stable floor,
I see quite clearly there is room for one more.’
And Miss McPherson smiled,
‘There’s plenty of room for a crocodile.’
©GWEN GRANT
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