| A poor orphan girl named Maria
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| Was walking to market one day
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| She stopped for to rest by the roadside
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| Where a bird with a broken wing lay
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| A few moments passed till she saw it For it’s feathers were covered with sand
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| But soon clean and wrapped it was travelling
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| In the warmth of Maria’s small hand
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| She happily gave her last peso
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| On a cage made of rushes and twine
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| She fed it loose corn from the market
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| And watched it grow stronger with time
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| Now the Christmas Eve service was coming
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| And the church shone with tinsel and light
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| And all of the townfolks brought presents
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| To lay by the manger that night
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| There were diamonds and incense
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| And perfumes
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| In packages fit for a king
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| But for one ragged bird in a small cage
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| Maria had nothing to bring
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| She waited till just before midnight
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| So no one would see her go in And crying she knelt by the manger
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| For her gift was unworthy of Him
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| Then a voice spoke to her through the darkness
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| Maria, what brings you to me If the bird in the cage is your offering
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| Open the door and let me see |
| Though she trembled, she did as He ask her
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| And out of the cage the bird flew
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| Soaring up into the rafters
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| On a wing that had healed good as new
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| Just then the midnight bells rang out
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| And the little bird started to sing
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| A song that no words could recapture
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| Whose beauty was fit for a king
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| Now Maria felt blessed just to listen
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| To that cascade of notes sweet and long
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| As her offering was lifted to heaven
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| By the very first nightingale’s song |