(The first twelve lines are from the poem by Clement Clarke Moore, “A Visit from St. Nicolas” first published in 1823.)

T’was the night before Christmas and all thro’ the house

not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.

And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,

had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap

when out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow

gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.

There lying on the ground in a huge snow bank

was a total stranger, a personage of no rank.

He had fallen whilst dragging a large heavy log,

all the time being “yapped” at by a mangy old dog.

I looked down on him and he up at me,

he was a lost soul if ever one be.

It was then I knew what I had urgently to do,

I put on my robe and slipped into each shoe.

I ran down the stairs and through the front room

almost tripping over some chairs and a broom.

I opened the front door and motioned to him;

he hesitated but I insisted until he finally came in.

The clothes on his back were tattered and torn,

the shoes on his feet were nearly through worn.

He was lean as a rail if the truth was to speak,

he looked like he had barely eaten in over a week.

I stoked up the fire and set him quite near;

it clearly showed he was frozen from foot to ear.

I brought him some drink and food and set on his lap.

He glared back at me as if I was setting a trap.

He ate all in silence never saying one word.

Satisfaction returned; I swear he nearly purred.

When he had finished he turned and he said,

“Why have you done what others might dread,

to take in a stranger all tattered and torn?

Most would see danger and look on with scorn.”

I replied, “We are not rich nor are we poor.

To a person in need we must always open our door.

Whether at Christmas, Summer, Spring or Fall

is not sharing with others our Father’s supreme call?”

He rose from the chair and headed toward the door,

about to go out in the blustery cold once more.

Not fully knowing why, I wished him to stay yet more;

but he said “No.” He had found what he came for.

As he departed he looked back at me,

his face now shining with a look of near glee.

“You’re a bearer of the true spirit of living,

helping others in need with unreserved giving.

Your sharing of meat, drink and bread unleavened

has earned you one day a high place in Heaven.

Thank you my friend for the hospitality and drink.

I’ll see you again,” he said, then disappeared in a blink.

I stood in awe, my mind and body rather shook,

then I dashed to the door to have one last look.

There was no man to be seen, only a heavenly beam,

one bright ascending star trailing a gold stream.

Now when I look to the sky and see a shooting star

I wonder who’s been visited by that person from afar.

May the star of your God bring you

Peace, Prosperity, Hope and Fulfillment

this Holiday Season; and for many more to come!