Why is the baby crying
On this, his special day,
When we have brought him lovely gifts
And laid them in the hay?
He’s crying for the people
Who greet this day with dread
Because somebody dear to them
Is far away or dead,
For all the men and women
Whose love affairs went wrong,
Who try their best at merriment
When Christmas comes along,
For separated parents
Whose turn it is to grieve
While children hang their stockings up
Elsewhere on Christmas Eve,
For everyone whose burden
Carried through the year,
Is heavier at Christmastime,
The season of good cheer.
That’s why the baby’s crying
There in the cattle stall:
He’s crying for all those people.
He’s crying for them all.
Wendy Cope (Sent to me by Loretta Cantwell, after she saw it in The Spectator, 2008
