‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house
All creatures were stirring, including the mouse.
For days, the stockings had been hanging beside the fake chimney with care,
Each with an apple plugging the hole in the toe.
The children were screaming and shouting with glee
“No school tomorrow, not even for me!”
The wife with her dust rag and I in my hat
Were just trying to settle our brains for a nap
When out on the patio three stories down
Was heard a loud crash that caused me to frown.
I leapt from my bed, my bat in my hand
To investigate the noise that was down on the land.
I pulled back the curtain and cranked open the window
Leaned way out to see the ground, now this was real stupid.
There stood a driver not more than ten years
With a little red wagon and something with ears.
It looked like a dog, I tell you no lie
But with sticks rising up from its head. It still won’t fly.
Closing the window, I knew there was nothing to dread
‘Just a child playing Santa Claus’ went through my head,
When a noise behind me caused me to turn and filled me with dread.
There beside the fireplace was a wise old man with a cherubic face.
How he got in I have no clue because this fireplace has no flue.
I have always respected men in red suits,
Even Jesus was said to wear one too.
This wise old man I watched in awe,
He filled each sock, and the hole was gone!
I closed my eyes just for a second,
‘I must be dreaming’ I recollected.
When I opened my eyes, the little old man was gone.
Now, how did he get past the security alarm?
I went back to my bed, shaking my head
Admitting to myself that…
Miracles still do happen.
(My apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)