A Christmas Poem, and Christmas Cards

I haven't had a creative bone in my body for quite sometime, until recently! I am addicted to card making now (and toast, but that's a different story)! I'm still a WAY beginner, and my digital camera is still craptastically broken! This first card is neon green and pink, so I think that's why it scanned like poo (it has some kind of funky dark streak down the middle that I couldn't get rid of after the scan)! The second one here, I will either keep for myself, or make another one just like it, because I just love the way it turned out! Below the cards is another wonderful Christmas poem with a "true meaning of the spirit of the holiday" message.

SANTA'S SECRET WISH

On Christmas Eve, a young boy with light in his eyes,
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise,
And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee,
"I want your secret, tell it to me."

He leaned up & whispered in Santa's good ear,
"How do you do it, year after year?"
"I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts here & there, you never run out.

How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys,
You have plenty for all of the world's girls & boys?
Stays so full, never empties as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large & small,

From nation to nation, reaching them all?
And Santa smiled kindly & said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions.
Don't you want a toy?"

But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me,"
He told the small boy with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder and wise.

"The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.
But although I do visit each girl and each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.

Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad.
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, and children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?

"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives, toys aren't enough.
So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl and boy,
And pray with them that they'll be given the joy

Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.
If only God hears me and answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there

Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.
It's a very hard task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.

But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic, And that is the truth.

In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could e'er give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
'Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes. Not just toys.

The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
"And do you know something? You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.

It never gets empty, it's full from the start.
It's the centre of lights, and of love. It's your heart.
And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with your gifts 'neath your tree.

Open that sack, call your heart, and share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."
The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going."

"Wait, little boy," said Santa "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?"
And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand and whispered, "I will."

Author Unknown