Who sends the white and feathery snow?
From yonder inky cloud?
Its gentle flakes fall soft and slow
Till shrubs and flowers they shroud.
Now scarlet berries, leaflets green,
Are hidden from our sight;
Nor is the earth e’en longer seen,
All, all is spotless white.
The birdies now find sure relief
And get their daily food,
When Swedish people raise the sheaf
And prove that God is good.
For thus it is that God provides
And meets the needs of all,
The little bird no longer hides
But answers to the call.
Dear children, He who makes the snow,
And sends it from the sky,
Is God, who to us long ago
Sent Jesus here to die.
And by His blood our souls are made,
Ah! whiter than the snow;
Thus speaks His Word, and what there said
Is true, we fully know.
ML 01/14/1917