Helen J. Jarvis 

Pascagoula, Mississippi 

Helen has been writing since high school days, but not until the last three years after retiring has she had more time and seeing an ad in a magazine entered a poem in The National Library of Poetry contest. Active in her church, with four children, five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren, Helen mostly writes about God, nature, and her everyday observance that God really is the source of her talent. She mostly enjoys being outside and usually remarks that you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl (having been born on a farm in Virginia). Helen is recently widowed, looking back on fond memories and trying to close the book on 46 years of marriage, looking forward to writing to praise God for the enjoyment of her family and friends! 

Christmas Rose

Was it a starry wintry night,
like we've always been told?
When Mary's Christmas Rose was born!
I wondered, as I walked outside,
early one December morn!
Many stories about His birth have been told!
She wrapped Him in swaddling clothes,
laid Him on a bed of straw,
The animals gathered 'round
their breath to keep Him warm!
CHRISTMAS ROSE, HIS smile so dear
O little babe of Bethlehem.
All too soon grown into man.
This beautiful scene handed down
Through the ages by tradition and revelation
We recall it all that December morn,
What wonders to BEHOLD!

In the late December night sky
There was a large bright star
Was this the one the shepherds saw?
They were watching their sheep
That cold bright night
Angels began to sing
Heralding the GOOD NEWS!
A new born KING.
The the word was spread
Three Kings set out
Wanting to see what He was about
Gifts they brought,
Gold, frankincense and myrrh
What they found was an innocent babe
On a bed of straw!
When He grew into man,
His enemies call Him King
With thorns they crowned HIM!

Rocking horse under the tree
a new doll for baby and me.
A wind up train for Bobby,
a shinny bike for Georgie.
Stockings filled with goodies,
nuts and fruit.
Wool gloves and scarf's,
to keep us warm.
These memories of Christmas'
down on the farm.
Jumped out of bed trying
to stay calm.
It had snowed, an exciting
Christmas morn.
Santa should have brought,
another sled.
Daddy has the answer,
he put me in a tub instead.
Down the hill with no way
to steer, oh dear.
Believe it or not I wasn't hurt
as that tub came to a stop.
It glided into the yard,
with me on the top.
I decided it would be safer,
to go back inside.
Riding the rocking horse,
and singing my dolly a lullaby.