Selfishness makes Christmas a burden, love makes it a delight.

A child that’s born on a Christmas Day, is fair and wise, good and gay.

The holly and the ivy, When they are both full grown, Of all the trees that are in the wood, The holly bears the crown. The rising of the sun And the running of the deer, The playing of the merry organ, Sweet singing in the choir.

Until one feels the spirit of Christmas, there is no Christmas. All else is outward display so much tinsel and decorations. For it isn’t the holly, it isn’t the snow. It isn’t the tree not the firelight’s glow. It’s the warmth that comes to the hearts of men when the Christmas spirit returns again.

The greatest Christmas gift can’t be purchased in a store, ordered from a catalog, wrapped in a pretty package with a fancy bow… but it can be seen in the eyes of a child, heard in the words of kindness and felt in the embrace of a friend.

God rest you merry, gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay.

The Christmas spirit that goes out with the dried-up Christmas tree is just as worthless.

About all you can do is dream of a white Christmas, for it seems like it always leaves most of us in the red.