I wrote this piece for a friend of mine who was struggling with the "right" way to celebrate the holidays, when they didn't feel particularly safe with their biological family and couldn't afford anything like a "Hallmark Christmas" for themself or their friends.  (As I was thinking of the kind of Christmas I wished for them, I realized it sounded pretty good to me too.)  There are melodic quotations from at least five well-known Christmas songs hidden in here.  (Do we still call them "Easter Eggs"?)  Can you catch them all?

Lyrics

A qui­et time with ones you love,
with­out a thought for what’s beneath the tree.…
It’s dark out­side. The earth is cold.
But in this house, you’re safe with fam­i­ly.
Around the room you see all your favorite faces,
though they don’t all resem­ble your own.
And in the still of this silent night,
you know for more than sure you’re not alone.

Bun­dled up in mis­matched clothes,
and singing songs whose words you don’t quite know.…
Noth­ing here is per­fect, but
there’s no place else on earth you’d rather go.
The fairy tales about angels, kings, and shep­herds
fill those younger than you with delight.
And some­how the thought of that lit­tle town
works mag­ic on your jad­ed heart tonight.

Immanuel: Even here, even now, you’re not alone.
Not a place, but a pres­ence, makes this home.
And though some­times you for­get,
Immanuel: Some­thing greater than the lies you’ve heard is true.
You have a home, no mat­ter what you do.
And you know it, too.
That’s the kind of Christ­mas I wish for you.

You share a glance, a bash­ful smile,
and yesterday’s regrets dis­solve away.
Wound­ed pride and hurt­ful words,
they mat­ter less than fam­i­ly today.
You start to see the full val­ue of for­give­ness,
and you promise to do, or to try.
And with those words, you find, in the bleak mid­win­ter,
that the stars all shine brighter in the sky.

Immanuel: Even here, even now, you’re not alone.
Not a place, but a pres­ence, makes this home.
And though some­times you for­get,
Immanuel: Some­thing greater than the lies you’ve told is true.
You have a home, no mat­ter what you do.
And you know it, too.
That’s the kind of Christ­mas—
a holy kind of Christ­mas—
that’s the kind of Christ­mas I wish for you.

©2018 David M. Glas­gow (ASCAP)