On the long trek to the barn
The snow crunches under my feet
From somewhere in the trees
A hoot owl gives it's mournful cry
The sweet smell of hay greets me as I open the door

The new calf is up and nursing, a worry no more
As I step back out my breath appears in a cloud of stem,
It's a night of beauty, a moment to dream


Stars twinkle in a crisp, clear sky
Prompting me to wonder again
"Why? Why?"
God chose to have His Holy Son born in a barn, laid of hay


When He with such divine power had the choice of any way
Did he plan that the keepers of lowly cattle and sheep
Be the first believers of the gift of the babe asleep?

For the angels led the herdsmen
On their long way
To the precious, tiny child swaddled in rags and hay
I began to hum "Silent Night" as I follow the pathway
So thankful for all of god's gifts, born in the hay.