Materialism? Not for me.

He did not even own a bed,
He had no place to lay His head.
A cattle stall, His crib at birth,
He had no bank account on earth.
He laid the wealth of heaven down
For earthly rags, a thorny crown.
He passed the praise of angels by
And came where men cried, “Crucify!”
He left a throne for you and me
And bore our sins upon a tree.
So strong His claim, so clear His call,
How dare I give Him less than all?
—Barbara C. Ryberg

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