Truck wheels rolling into Dallas,

A weary trucker sat alone.

Exhausted from hours of driving,

But thinking of the folks at home.

His small son sat on the staircase,

Praying with all his soul and might;

Lord, please, somehow work a miracle,

And bring my daddy home tonight.

Bright glitter decked an evergreen;

Its light bulbs blinked in harmony.

An angel, adorned in white and gold,

Glowed, from her place atop the tree.

Sleep didn’t come to calm the spirit

Of the young lad who waited there.

Bring my daddy home for Christmas,

Was his one and only prayer.

His body grew tired and weary,

I'll yet wait here a little while.

Glancing at the glowing tree top,

He thought he saw the angel smile.

The night wore on, yet he waited,

His body slumped upon the floor.

But just before sleep overcame him,

He heard a key turn in the door.

Daddy! This must be a miracle;

Mama said you were far away,

And if you drove the rig all night,

You could not get here Christmas day.

Son, I had a wait in Dallas,

And would not have a thing to do.

Tom came down in his small aircraft,

And flew me home to be with you.

Two guys slowly climb the staircase,

Father and son were side by side.

Fatigued from all the sleepless hours,

But together now, and satisfied.

December 6, 1996