He little knew the sorrow
                  that was in his vacant chair,
              He never guessed they'd miss him,
                 or he'd surely have been there;
                   He couldn't see his mother
              or the lump that filled her throat,
               Or the tears that started falling
                   as she read his hasty note;
                And he couldn't see his father,
                  sitting sorrowful and dumb,
               Or he never would have written
              that he thought he couldn't come.

                   He little knew the gladness
            that his presence would have made,
              And the joy it would have given,
               or he never would have stayed.
                 He didn't know how hungry 
                 had the little mother grown
                 Once again to see her baby
               and to claim him for her own.
               He didn't guess the meaning
                 of his visit Christmas Day
             Or he never would have written
                 that he couldn't get away.

                  He couldn't see the fading 
            of the cheeks that once were pink,
                And the silver in the tresses;
              and next Christmas it might be
             There would be no home to visit
                  and no mother dear to see.
                   He didn't think about it - 
                  I'll not say he didn't care.
              He was heedless and forgetful
              or he'd surely have been there.

           Are you going home for Christmas?
             Have you written you'll be there?
              Going home to kiss the mother
               and to show her that you care?
             Going home to greet the father
                in a way to make him glad?
        If you're not I hope there'll never come
                 a time you'll wish you had.
             Just sit down and write a letter - 
           it will make their heat strings hum
              With a tune of perfect gladness - 
           if you'll tell them that you'll come.
                   

Written By:
Edgar Guest