| It happened one day near December’s end
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| Two neighbors called on an old friend
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| And they found his shop so meager and lean
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| Made gay with thousand bows of green
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| And Conrad was sitting with face a-shine
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| When he suddenly stopped as he stitched a twine
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| And he said «Old friends, at dawn today
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| When the cock was crowing the night away
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| The Lord appeared in a dream to me
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| And said «I'm coming your guest to be.»
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| So I’ve been busy with feet astir
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| Strewing my shop with branches of fern
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| The table is spread and the kettle is shined
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| And over the rafters the holly is twined
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| Now I’ll wait for my Lord to appear
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| And listen closely so I will hear
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| His step as He nears my humble place
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| And I’ll open the door and look on His face
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| So his friends went home and left Conrad alone
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| For this was the happiest day he had known
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| For long since, his family had passed away
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| And Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas Day
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| But he knew with the Lord as his Christmas Guest
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| This Christmas would be the dearest and best
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| So he listened with only joy in his heart
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| And with every sound he would rise with a start
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| And look for the Lord to be at his door
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| Like the vision he had had a few hours before
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| So he ran to the window after hearing a sound
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| But all he could see on the snow covered ground
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| Was a shabby beggar whose shoes were torn
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| And all of his clothes were ragged and worn
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| But Conrad was touched and he went to the door
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| And he said, «You know, your feet must be frozen and sore
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| I have some shoes in my shop for you
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| And a coat that will keep you warmer too.»
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| So with grateful heart the man went away
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| But Conrad noticed the time of day
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| And wondered what made the Lord so late
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| And how much longer he’d have to wait
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| When he heard a knock, he ran to the door
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| But it was only a stranger once more
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| A bent old lady with a shawl of black
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| With a bundle of kindling piled on her back
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| She asked for only a place to rest
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| But that was reserved for Conrad’s Great Guest
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| But her voice seemed to plead «Don't send me away
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| Let me rest for awhile on Christmas Day»
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| So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup
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| And told her to sit at the table and sup
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| But after she left he was filled with dismay
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| For he saw that the hours were slipping away
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| And the Lord hadn’t come as he said he would
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| Then Conrad felt sure he had misunderstood
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| When out of the stillness he heard a cry
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| «Please help me and tell me where am I?»
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| So again he opened his friendly door
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| And stood disappointed as twice before
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| It was only a child who’d wandered away
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| And was lost from her family on Christmas Day
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| Again Conrad’s heart was heavy and sad
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| But he knew he should make the little girl glad
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| So he called her in and he wiped her tears
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| And quieted all her childish fears
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| Then he led her back to her home once more
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| But as he entered his own darkened door
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| He knew the Lord was not coming today
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| For the hours of Christmas had passed away
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| So he went to his room and knelt down to pray
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| And he said «Dear Lord, why did you delay?
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| What kept you from coming to call on me?
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| For I wanted so much your face to see.»
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| When soft in the silence a voice he heard
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| «Lift up your head for I kept my word
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| Three times my shadow crossed your floor
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| And three times I came to your lonely door
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| I was the beggar with bruised, cold feet
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| And I was the woman you gave something to eat
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| I was the child on the homeless street
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| Three times I knocked, and three times I came in
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| And each time I found the warmth of a friend
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| Of all the gifts, love is the best
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| And I was honored to be your Christmas Guest |