Let me tell you a tale that is often told,
In the Great Celestial Hall.
All about an Angel only 4 years old,
The littlest Angel of all.
How all day he would play with a little box,
That to others had no worth.
Oh, but there were treasures in this little box,
Treasures he'd brought from earth.
Just a butterfly,
With golden wings.
A little piece of a hollow log.
Two shiny stones from a river bank.
And a worn out strap of his faithful dog.
Then the Angels heard that the Holy Child,
Would be born in Bethlehem.
And they all brought presents for the Holy child,
And each gift was a Heavenly gem,
Then the littlest Angel put his little box.
Near the presents fine and rare,
And the littlest Angel sat alone and cried.
For his gift was so meager and bare.
Just a butterfly,
With golden wings.
A little piece of a hollow log.
Two shiny stones from a river bank.
And a worn out strap of his faithful dog.
But the Lord chose the gift of the little box,
That a child had blessed with love.
And it started glowing and that very night,
It became the star up above.
When you see that star as it shines on high,
In the great Celestial Hall.
You will know that proudest angel in the sky ,
Is the littlest Angel of all.
With a butterfly,
With golden wings.
A little piece of a hollow log.
Two shiny stones from a river bank.
And a worn out strap of his faithful dog.
