Jose was a boy of nine, who lived in Mexico, and as it came to Christmastime, the days were long and slow. With his friends he'd try and guess the presents and the toys, he'd find upon the Christmas tree, to show to all the boys. The day before the greatest day, he roamed the market square, and by the church he saw a man, whose head was bowed in prayer. Just a dog to give my boy, to play within the sun, was all he heard the poor man say, for then his prayer was done. Jose tried to join the games his friends were playing still, but now his mind was sad, and all the games had lost their thrill. He wandered home, and heard the bells resounding in his ear, but in his heart he knew for one, there'd be no Christmas cheer. The night had come, and in the dark, the hacienda slipped, but Jose woken by a sound, among the presents crept. Again the sound, a barking noise, and there for Christmas Day. It couldn't be, but yes it was, a dog addressed Jose. He laughed it so, but also knew, that love was made to share, so in a box he put the dog, and ran to market square. Sure enough still praying, although the dawn was near, the poor man knelt and Jose cried, I knew you'd still be here. He put the box beside the man, and said it's for your boy, and though the dog was his no more, endless was his joy. Jose was a boy of nine, but oh how he could run, he reached the hacienda, the same time as the sun. And there nobody seemed to know, about a dog or such, for if they did, they didn't mind, or seem to say as much. Then by the tree, just where he'd seen, the dog he gave away. He found a card, from Jesus. Thank you for the gift, Jose. You