Everyone has a favorite story that is dusted off once a year to vaccinate against materialism of Christmas holidays.

After the beloved Bible stories, among the more popular pieces are Charles Dickens Christmas Carol, Clement C. Moores A Visit From St. Nicholas, and O. Henrys Gift of the Magi.

Perhaps more appropriate this year is a short poem called Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Though written 139 years ago, Christmas Bells has particular meaning. It is an expression of reborn faith in God during a period of doubt and dismay about a great war.

Longfellow -- Americas first, great poet -- was a devout Unitarian, a dedicated anti-slavery abolitionist and a devoted family man. Tragedies involving loved ones shook these foundations upon which the poet had built his life.

Tragedy

Early in 1861, Longfellows wife, Fanny, burned to death when she dropped a lighted match on her long dress. She was melting sealing wax onto envelopes for relatives.

The envelopes contained locks of golden hair from their youngest child -- five-year-old Edith.

Longfellows second son, Ernest, in later years related how the five children were the inspiration of his fathers popular poem The Childrens Hour.

While walking up an down with baby Edith in his arms, my father composed -- and often sang to her -- the lines sometimes attributed to Mother Goose.

There was a little girl

Who had a little curl,

Right in the middle of her forehead.

When she was good,

She was ve-ry good,

But when she was bad

She was horrid.

Longfellow rushed to the aid of his screaming wife and tried to smother the flames by throwing his arms around her.

It was no use. Fanny died three hours later. Henry was badly burned and could not attend her funeral the next day. His face was so scarred after the ordeal he could not shave and so grew a beard.

Civil War

While still grieving his wifes death, the Civil War started -- and with it, Longfellows fervent hope for abolition of slavery by peaceful means.

Seventeen-year-old Charles Longfellow oldest son of the famous poet -- slipped away from home to join the Union Army.

He had shot off his left thumb in a hunting accident. This kept him out of the infantry which was his first choice. Instead, he was inducted as a Private and assigned to the First Massachusetts Artillery.

Charles proved to be a capable soldier and soon was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the First Massachusetts Cavalry.

In this capacity he fought in the Mine Run Campaign at New Hope Church, Virginia, on Nov. 27, 1863. He was severely injured with a bullet wound in his shoulders, near his spine, and was evacuated to a hospital near Washington, D.C.

When father Longfellow was informed of this, he and son Ernest went to the hospital and was given permission to take Charles home to recuperate.

Faith Tested

During the long days and nights that his son hovered between life and death, Longfellows faith in God wavered. It seemed that his family was wasted, the war useless and God was dead..

In short, he suffered the same torment many folks do today when the birth of Jesus Son of God is challenged, and the conduct of the Iraq War doubted.

As Longfellow sat nursing his son through a long Christmas Eve, he reflected upon the meaning of life. At daybreak he was roused from his inner search by the sound of church bells announcing Christmas Day.

It was a symbolic call to Longfellow. He responded with the following poem in which you, too, may find inspiration for carrying on another Year.

CHRISTMAS BELLS

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

Their old, familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet

The words repeat

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

And thought how, as day had come,

The belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along

The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

Till, ringing, singing on its way,

The world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime,

A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth

The cannon thundered in the South,

And with the sound

The carols drowned

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent

The hearth-stones of a continent.

And made forlorn

The households born

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;

There is no peace on earth, I said;

For hate is strong,

And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, goodwill to men.

Then pealed the bells loud and deep:

God is not dead; nor doeth He sleep!

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, goodwill to men!