The gift       (Listen to midi)    (Listen to sample)

 

         D

1. A poor orphan girl named Maria,

                                                 A

    was walking to market one day,

 

    she stopped for a rest by the roadside,

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    where a bird with a broken wing lay.

        D

2. A few moments passed till she saw it,

                                                            A

    for it's feathers were covered with sand,

 

    but soon clean and wrapped it was travelling

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    in the warmth of Maria's small hand.

 

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    She happily gave her last peso

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    on a cage made of rushes and twine.

            G

    She fed it loose corn from the market,

             D                                            A

    and watched it grow stronger with time.

 

                        D

3. Now the Christmas Eve service was coming,

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    and the church shone with tinsel and light,

 

    and all of the town folks brought presents

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    to lay by the manger that night.

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4. There were diamonds and incense and perfumes

                                     A

    in packages fit for a king,

 

    but for one ragged bird in a small cage,

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    Maria had nothing to bring.

 

 

 

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    She waited till just before midnight,

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     so no one would see her go in,

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    and crying she knelt by the manger,

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    for her gift was unworthy of Him.

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5. Then a voice spoke to her through the darkness,

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    ”Maria, what brings you to me ?

 

    If the bird in the cage is your offering,

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    open the door, let me see !“

 

                         E

6.Though she trembled, she did as He asked her

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    and out of the cage the bird flew,

 

    soaring up into the rafters

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    on a wing that had healed good as new.

      A

    Just then the midnight bells rang out,

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    and the little bird started to sing,

          A

    a song that no words could recapture,

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    whose beauty was fit for a king.

 

                  E

7. Now Maria felt blessed just to listen

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    to that cascade of notes sweet and long,

 

    as her offerings was lifted to heaven

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    by the very first nightingale's song. (Garth Brooks)