It's not snowing in Los Angeles
Not this Christmas nor any before
You might find it hard to believe that there're any
But I assure you
there're a few angels there…
Maybe even more
As on the side of his bed
At night in his head
A child prays for the gifts he wants to be his
He prays with his parents watching with half-closed eyes
He's not so naïve to believe in Santa
But he's naïve enough to believe in God
His parents watch and hope he'll always be that wise
Now off to church with his sister and parents
He goes to pray like before
They think he's praying for that bike they got him
But he's praying for more
They pass around the alms plate
At church and they plea
That there are people out there
And you must give for their need
His little sister sees everyone giving
But she has nothing
Standing on the plate she says, "I can only give me"
Some don't have and still they give
I've seen it before
A gesture no one in the church could ignore
To give the little you have
When it's all that you've got
I tell you that no one could ever give more
The parents are actually separated
But still- as a family- they go to church
But an hour's not forever
No matter how either of them prefer
So sadly they go back to their separate houses
She's waiting for him and he's waiting for her
By their phones we see that
There's more than one way to wait for a miracle to occur
It's not snowing in Los Angeles
Not this Christmas nor any before
There's so much beauty in an eight year old
Searching for just the right words
Secretly writing in the candlelight
As he tries to express all his eloquent thoughts
He tries to express them with the crayons he bought
With his own money from the store the night before
But he's young
And simple words are all he's got
Like I said before, no one can give more
So though those simple words aren't what he meant
His words are like his thoughts…
So eloquent
As he holds the crayon--- writing with the palm of his fists
Three cards for his father, mother, and sis
He's just a kid who's praying all of the time
All of the time, everywhere he goes
There's no snow in LA
So everyone thinks
Maybe he's praying for snow
And who knows how miracles come
Or how miracles go
Maybe this year in L.A., it'll snow
So on Christmas eve, on a warm night
Both the children finish their prayer
They're praying now more than they've ever had
Glistening and listening,
They smile as they hear their father downstairs
Not because they think it's Santa
But because they know it's Dad
His sister prays with him because she believes him
In all he says and she always will
And as the two look out the window
And see Mommy kissing Santa Claus
He tells his little sister that praying's real!
Smiling, with their Dad and Mom together
They're now like before
They thought he was praying for that bike they got him
But he was praying for more
