12/24/2019
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
AS TOLD BY MASTER YODA
The night before Christmas, it was; and through all the house,
A creature stirred not, not even a mouse.
All stockings by the chimney were hung carefully,
With hope that Saint Nick, he there would be.
All nestled, the children, they were, snug in their beds.
Had visions of sugar-plums, did they, dancing in their heads.
Was mother in her kerchief. Was father in his cap.
Were both settled down for a long winter’s nap.
Arose upon the lawn, there a loud clatter;
Sprang from his bed, father did, to view the matter.
Away flew he, to the window, like a flash.
Tore open the shutters, he did. Threw up the sash.
Saw he the moon ‘pon the breast of new-fallen snow,
Luster, like mid-day, gave it to objects below.
Then to his wondering eyes, did appear
A sleigh in miniature, and eight tiny reindeer.
Had it a little, old driver, lively and quick was he.
Knew he, that moment, that Saint Nick he did see.
More rapid than eagles his reindeer they came.
Whistled, he did, called each by name:
“Now Dasher! Now Dancer! And Prancer! and Vixen!”
Called he: “On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen!”
“To the top of the porch,” ordered he. “To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
Heh-heh-heh! (Imagine, can you, eight of your world’s reindeer atop a wall? How comedic and beautiful such a sight must have been! Hmm? Oh. Yes, yes. Continue, I will, now.)
As dry leaves that within wild hurricanes flew,
When met with an obstacle, mount to the sky, they do.
Mm. Yes. So up to the house-top flew his reindeer quick.
A sleigh filled with toys, had they, and also Saint Nick.
In a twinkling, on rooftop, could one clearly hear,
The hoof's prancing and pawing of each reindeer.
Drew in his head, father did, and turned ‘round
to see down the chimney slid Saint Nick with a bound.
(Hee-hee-hee! How fit one so large through so narrow a space? Misperception, this surely was, but how wonderful can be such misperception! Hmph! Yes. A moment of reflection, that is all. Continue now, I will. Patience, you should have.)
Dressed all in furs, he was, from head to foot.
Blackened they were, with ashes, with soot.
A bundle of toys had he, flung over his back.
Like a peddler, he looked, just opening his pack.
With eyes twinkling, with dimples merry,
With cheeks like roses, with nose like a cherry!
With mouth quaint and little, drawn up like a bow,
With beard on his chin, white as the snow.
Held he the stump of a pipe in his teeth,
And smoke he had, ‘round his head like a wreath.
Broad, his face was; round was his belly,
And when laugh, he did, shook his middle like jelly.
At this happy old elf, father laughed, when saw he a wink,
In spite of knowing, he, not what to think.
Spoke he no word, but straight to his work,
Filled he all the stockings, then turned he with a jerk.
And a finger laid he alongside his nose,
Then a nod giving, and up the chimney he rose.
To his team, a whistle; to his sleigh without balking,
And away flew they all, like the Millennium Falcon!
But before out of sight they were, Saint Nick did call:
“Have a good night, and Happy Christmas to all!”
(There. Told this story I did. A story of joy, compassion, peace, and forgiveness. Upon this Holy Day, recognize you should the parallels between this and your own life. Surely a Jedi, this Saint Nick, he was. Giving and resourceful. An air of calm and ease, he had. Be well, Younglings. And remember you the spirit of this wise and generous soul.)
