‘Twas Really the Night Before Christmas . . .


‘Twas Really the Night Before Christmas

Christmas 2012
Rachael Pope

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house

The children are laughing and running about.

The stockings are thrown on the living room floor

And someone is knocking at the front door.

The children are jumping around on their beds.

A bright green, large pillow zooms past my head.

Down in the kitchen there’s last minute baking

While the dogs beg for what’s in the making.

The Christmas tree sways from the weight of the cat

Whose hiding so well I can’t see where he’s at.

Up in the closet there’s some unwrapped gifts

But there’s no wrapping paper; we’ve used all of it.

A trip to the grocers is now being planned

We’re all out of eggs, carrots, and yams.

I am enlisted to run to the store

This will make it I think, trip number four.

I step out the door, the keys in my hand

I make my way over to our minivan.

Low and behold it is snowing outside

I must shovel the drive way before I can drive.

I get to the store and the parking lots packed

The only spot open is way in the back

I trek through the store and in through the doors

And I almost slip on the grocery room floor.

I grab the eggs and the rest of the stuff

I go through the check out; the cashier is gruff.

I make it back home, the food’s all in hand

I turn over the eggs, the carrots, and yams.

I then head upstairs and utter a cry

‘Cause I forgot to pick up the wrapping supplies!

Back out in the snow I go yet again

When I return home it’s a quarter to ten.

The kids are all up, but at least in pajamas

I put them in bed, but they all shout for “Mama!”

Mama comes up and gives them all hugs,

And we say goodnight to our little love bugs.

Then Mama and I go sit on the stairs

Too tired. Too tired. To walk back down there.

We sit at the top and hear the kids whisper

About which reindeer they think is faster.

Down in the living room, the ornaments jingle

It’s either the cat or it’s Kris Cringle.

My wife and I sit at the top, all alone

Listening to the Christmas sounds in our home.

An hour goes by, maybe two, maybe three

We sit upstairs, just my wife and me

Thinking of all the events of the day

“Honey,” she says, “Let’s pause and pray”

We pray for the world, we pray for our kids

And give thanks for all the things that He did.

We pray for ourselves; We pray for our friends

And conclude our prayers with a quiet, “Amen.”

We look at our children, tucked in their beds

And kiss each one gently again on their heads.

We walk down the stairs; the cat’s out of the tree.

He’s meowing and rubbing up against me.

I pick him up and with an arm ‘round my wife

Head off to bed on this cold winter night.

The End

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