'Twas the day of the night before...

We think all the presents, except those being brought by Santa, are wrapped and delivered. Instead of what had been a Christmas Eve tradition for dinner, lasagna, we're doing enchiladas, etc., in recognition of those seeking asylum along our country's southern border. To further the theme, Christmas Eve entertainment will be to watch Arrival, a movie we purchased back when if was new and never managed to watch.

the Creche several years ago at St. Paul's Cathedral

Photo by J. Harrington

If you have young children in your home, or can yourself remember the excitement a child has on Christmas Eve, count your blessings. The awe, the wonder, the joy, the magic of Christmas were made for the young and the young at heart. We're no longer in the first category but are working hard to remain in the second. That's one of the reasons we took a cue from Ray Bradbury's Dogs Think Every Day Is Christmas and gave our dogs their Christmas present a couple of days early. They agreed that it was a good idea and promptly tried to figure out how to get the edible kibbles out of the ball-like toy, rolling it about the kitchen, dining and living rooms. We now have two dogs and two similar toys. The border collie [Franco] especially enjoys herding one of the toys and the labrador [SiSi] nuzzles with her muzzle the other since she cares less about playing than she does about eating. She's finding it a challenge to connect those dots.

last year we were in Chicago's Union Station a few weeks before Christmas

Photo by J. Harrington

Tomorrow morning, with the Better Half, we get to do our own stockings and presents to each other, enjoy some coffee (not necessarily in that order), and head off to "The Kids' Place." There we'll meet up with the Son Person and enjoy the rest of Christmas morning and then his birthday in the afternoon. Then, after we get home late in the afternoon or early evening, we'll relax for a bit and then begin our prayers that we don't have to spend the rest of the week digging out.

In case we decide to take tomorrow off, we'll steal a line or two from Clement Clarke Moore (or Major Henry Livingston, Jr.) and wish a

HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!

A Visit from St. Nicholas

By Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds;

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;

And mamma 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 my 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 a lustre of midday to objects below,

When what to my wondering eyes did appear,

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny rein-deer,

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now Prancerand Vixen!

On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donnerand Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.

His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” 

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