The Gift -

A poor orphan girl named Maria

Was walking to market one day

She stopped for to rest by the road side

Where a bird with a broken wing lay

A few moments passed 'til she saw it

For its feathers were covered with sand

And soon—clean and wrapped—it was traveling

In the warmth of Maria’s small hand

She happily gave her last peso

On a cage made of rushes and twine

She fed it loose corn from the market

And watched it grow stronger with time

Now the gift-giving service was coming

And the church shone with tinsel and light

And all of the town folk brought presents

To lay by the manger that night

There were diamonds, incense and perfumes

In packages fit for a king

But for one ragged bird in a small cage

Maria had nothing to bring

She waited 'til just before midnight

So no one would see her go in

And crying she knelt by the manger

For her gift was unworthy of Him

Then a voice spoke to her through the darkness,

«Maria, what brings you to Me?

If the bird in the cage is your offering,

Open the door, let Me see.»

Though she trembled, she did as He asked her

And out of the cage the bird flew

Soaring up into the rafters

On a wing that had healed good as new

And just then the midnight bells rang out

And the little bird started to sing

A song that no words could recapture

For its beauty was fit for a king

Now Maria felt blessed just to listen

To the cascade of notes sweet and long

As her offering was lifted to Heaven

By the very first nightingale’s song