I picked up a book at a garage sale.
Its cover was worn and pages bent.
The book opened to a page with a picture of Christ.
It was the only page in perfect condition.
When I looked into His eyes I had to have that book
and couldn't wait to get home to read it.
I had grown away from religion with my busy life, even
though I had been deeply religious in my younger days. After returning home I looked at the picture of Jesus
and heard the voices of angels singing His
praises on that first Christmas.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem