Here’s another for you about why we hang tinsel on trees etc

SPIDER’S CAROL
S. Haithwaite

CHORUS: Spin, spider, spin. Keep on spinning your web
Till the cold frost of morn turns to silver your thread.

Watched by a spider, Mary bore her new babe,
The child who was sent mankind for to save,
And the gift of the ox and the ass who were there
Was a manger to lie in and a stable so bare.

Shepherds watched over their flocks through the night.
An angel came to them and gave them a fright,
Told them to go find the new baby king,
And a gift of a lamb's what the shepherds did bring.

Three men came to honour this tiny new babe.
Gold, frankincense, myrrh were the gifts that they gave,
For they'd seen a bright star which to them meant one thing,
So they'd travelled for miles just to honour this king.

High up in the roof sat the spider so small.
What gift could she give? She had nothing at all.
A frosty night came. Spider had an idea
To keep the babe warm she would spin her web here.

Over the door span spider her web,
Carefully weaving each delicate thread
To keep out the cold and the frost from the stall
Was the gift of the spider to the baby so small.

During the night the frost touched every thread.
No longer of silk, silver hung there instead.
It was seen by the soldiers sent to kill newborn babes.
They believed the stall empty so went on their way.

Centuries later we remember the day
When the gift of a spider a young baby saved.
Tinsel we hang to remember the web
And the frost that turned silver each delicate thread.