The Christmas stockings were hung with care

Some were extraordinarily beautiful, others ordinarily fair

Some were hung by the chimney

Others were hung on the tree

Some were made with bright colors

While others must’ve been bought for a dollar

Some had lights that shined so bright

Others even glowed in the dark of night

Some had glitter that sparkled from time to time

None of these comes close to describing mine

On my wife’s she had written a bible verse

One of my daughters had Santa on hers

Another daughter made hers with good cheer

While another finished hers by writing the year

When we were all done we were quite pleased

Then we joined hands and prayed for the least of these

But back to the stockings galore

There’s so much to say, so much more

Some had to be at least three feet long

When those are filled, I hope the nail is strong

Some are just a little bigger than my foot

For mine, I gave Santa a list, in case he needed my input

Some are made with love, paint, and glue

Some are quite fantastic while others have a mistake or two

Some were stitched and crocheted with extreme care

Others looked like they came out of the drawer by your underwear

Some had stickers of Santa and Rudolph and such

Others had just a name, but that was enough

On that Christmas morning, I learned a thing or two

From these Christmas stockings and I’d like to share with you

It doesn’t matter what the outside is

Because there is one thing I know and it’s this

It doesn’t matter what’s on the outside

Because the outside is just a brilliant disguise

What matters the most the outside tries to hide

What really matters is what’s on the inside