Poem by Sister M. Madaleva Wolff CSC 

You quiet, wise, 
wondering-men who know and love
the skies,
you who can make a jet, a satellite
with formulas to guide you and
compel you, make me a star
greater than all the
world’s piled up 
munitions are.
Put in it all these things that I
shall tell you.
Put in a sorry innkeeper’s gruff
word, unsaid,
a small, straw bed
against the winter night;
a shepherd’s crook, and
since you once were little as I am,
put in a lamb,
three crowns for three great kings,
some homely simple things,
toys for our small world’s
girls and boys.
You have not made a star
like this before,
but there is nothing, nothing that all
men are seeking more.
Sky-lovers,
make the best star you can make
for a Child’s sake.