Ray Boltz
When she laid Him in a manger, He was still her little child.
In a city, filled with strangers, He was still her little child.
Though the inn was full and the night was cold, she held Him close and smiled.
When she laid Him in the manger, He was still her little child.
When the angels, called Him Savior,
He was still her little child.
When the wisemen gave Him treasures,
He was still her little child.
Whe the shepherds bowed before Him, a star shown all the while.
When the angels called Him Savior,
He was still her little child.
When He grew in strength and wisdom
He was still her little child.
When He spoke, the people listened
He was still her little child.
And when He healed the lame and dying
they would follow Him for miles.
When He grew in strenght and wisdom
He was still her little child.
And when the people turned against Him
He was still her little child.
When they shouted crucify Him
He was still her little child.
When they nailed Him to a wooden cross
Then we were reconciled.
And she held His broken body
He was still her little child.