On Christmas Eve, a young Cofi with light in his eyes
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise
And said as he sat on Santa's broad knee,
"I want your secret. Tell it to me."

He leaned up and whispered in Santa's good ear
Santa "How do you do it, year after year?"
I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts to us Cofi's, you never run out.

How is it, Dear Santa, that in your pack of toys
You have plenty for all of Caernarfon's girls and boys?
Stays so full, never empties, as you make your way
From Hendre to Cae Bold, to homes large and small,
From Cae Mur to Cae Saint, reaching them all?"

And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions. Don't you want a toy?"
But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me,"

He told the young Cofi with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder and wise.
The truth is that my sack is magic, inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride."

But although I do visit each girl and each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily-wrapped toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad,
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, and the children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?

"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives, toys aren't enough.
So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl and boy,
And I pray with them that they'll be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives

In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.
If only God hears me and answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace, and with giving, and love
and boys and girls gifted with light from above.

It's a very hard task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need."

"That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could e'er give away.

The sack never empties of love, or of joys
Cause inside it are prayers, and hope. Not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.

"And do you know something? You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.
It never gets empty; it's full from the start.
It's the center of lights, and love. It's your heart.

And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with the gifts `neath your tree.
Open that sack called your heart, and share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."

The light in little Cofi's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for your secret. I've got to be going."
"Wait, little Cofi," Said Santa, "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?"

And just for a moment little Cofi stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand and whispered, "I will". . . .
There is still a touch of that little Cofil in all of us.
So as we go forward in life, lets all ask ourselves-

Will I Share?

Will I Help?

Will I use what I Know?
then touch Your own heart and answer "I Will".
God Bless, Merry Christmas all you young Cofi's!

DYMUNIADHEN WRAIG

(Stori wir yw hon a dderbyniwyd gan Y Parch. Eifion Wyn Williams, Llanfairfechan)

Pan oeddwn yn ifanc ac yn byw yng Nghemaes, Môn, adwaenwn hen wraig a oedd hefyd yn byw yn y pentref. Ei dymuniad hi, pan fyddai farw, oedd i chwech o ddynion cryfion gario ei harch o’i chartref i’r fynwent, a oedd gryn dri chwarter milltir i fwrdd.

Pan fu hi farw, anwybyddodd y teulu ei dymuniad a chaed hers i’w hebrwng ar ei thaith olaf. Fodd bynnag, ni chychwynnai yr hers er ceisio sawl gwaith a bu raid galw am hers arall. Cychwynnodd honno, ond ni theithiodd ond ychydig lathenni a thorrodd i lawr. Yn y diwedd cafodd yr hen wraig ei dymuniad a chariwyd hi yr holl ffordd ar ysgwyddau cyhyrog chwech o wyr o’r pentref.

THE WISH OF AN OLD WOMAN

(This story was received from the Reverend Eifion Wyn Williams, Llanfaifechan)

In my youth I lived at Cemaes Bay, Anglesey, and was acquainted with an old lady who also lived in the village. Her wish was, upon her death, that her coffin be carried by six strong men all the way from her home to the cemetery, which was three quarters of a mile distant.

When she died the family chose to ignore her wish and a hearse was hired to take her on her last journey. However, the hearse failed to start and after several attempts another was called for. This one did start, but broke down after travelling only a few yards. In the end the old lady had her wish of being carried on the muscular shoulders of six men from the village.