A Night Before Christmas
by Jill (franollie)
Based on the poem by Clement Clarke Moore
“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The Beldens were snuggled, asleep in their beds,
While visions of Christmas morn danced in their heads.
Peter was dreaming of his children and wife
Smiling ‘cause they were the light of his life.
Helen was dreaming of dawn the next day
When all would be laughing--enjoying their play.
In three small, twin beds were three sleeping boys
Who were tossing and turning and dreaming of toys.
While visions of gifts danced in her brothers’ heads,
Trixie was wide awake, sitting in bed.
She’d tried and she’d tried to fall off to sleep,
But the thoughts that kept her awake were too deep.
She leaned back on the wall--ran her hands through her curls.
She sighed and she let her memories unfurl.
Her mind was a bit fuzzy, the thoughts not quite clear
As she remembered the good, and the bad, of last year.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Trixie sprang from her bed to see what was the matter.
She ran to the window and pulled up the blind.
She peered into the darkness, and what did she find?
Nothing.
Naught but gouges and prints in the new fallen snow.
“Footprints,” thought Trixie. “Where do they go?”
Trixie pulled on her sweats, slid her feet into shoes.
“What’s going on?” She silently mused.
She turned the knob on her door and stepped into the hall.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice softly called.
“Mart. Brian,” she whispered, “There’s footprints outside.”
“A mystery to solve. It’s a matter of pride.”
She looked at her brothers, her voice caught in her throat,
For each of the boys wore his own winter coat.
“We just couldn’t sleep,” Brian then said.
“It was like something pulled us right out of our beds.”
“Let us not tarry. We must hurry, depart.
We have things to discover,” said almost-twin Mart.
The three Belden siblings crept out the back door,
Each of them curious down to their core.
They examined the pattern made in the snow,
but found nothing of interest. “What’s this then? Hello...”
Trixie’s sharp eyes had found them a clue.
It was a cute little dolly--hairbow slightly askew.
“Let’s follow the prints and see where they lead.”
Trixie took off through the snow at great speed.
The girl quickly followed the tracks through the trees.
The boys sighed and thought, “We’re going to freeze.”
They followed their sister, not making a sound,
She called from a distance: “Look what I found.”
Into the clearing the Belden boys stumbled,
And suddenly they felt utterly humbled.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
Mart, angry, just mumbled, “This must be a trick.”But the stranger said, “Martin, it is me–St. Nick.”
“I was finishing up my rounds for the night,
When something strange happened to mess up my flight.”
“I was trying deliveries without the reindeer,
but I’ll not do that again, it’s perfectly clear.
My sleigh is damaged beyond all repair,
I still have gifts to deliver,” he said voice filled with care.
“Oh, Santa! We’re sorry,” Trixie B. cried.
“If you can’t finish Christmas, I know I’ll just die!”
“Don’t worry, Beatrix,” Santa said with a smile.
“I’ll finish my work, and be off in a while.”
At that point four more people appeared out of the night.
“Perfectly perfect,” said Claus, “It’s every Bob White.”
“There comes a time, children, at a certain age
Where your name gets removed from the naughty-nice page.
You’ve all passed that time. You get no gifts from me.
Gifts from parents and others are under the tree.
But for giving to others from the depths of your hearts,
for helping, for caring, for having the “smarts,”
I’ll make an exception,” he said with a wink.
“You deserve one more gift from me, I do think.”
In each of their hands appeared a small gift.
It was prettily wrapped and easy to lift.
“Go ahead,” Santa said, “Open them now.”
They did. “Jeepers!” “Gleeps!” “Oh man!” “Holy cow!”
Inside each of the boxes were two separate things:
A bob-white pin with their name inscribed on the wings.
The other, a photo, with all of them there
Smiling and laughing, with nary a care.
“Thanks, Santa!” “Yeah, thanks so much!” “Oh, thank you!”
“You’re welcome. You kids give me hope with all that you do.”
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, toward the stars he arose.
They looked at each other, and each shook their heads.
“Well kids,” Brian said, “Let’s go home to our beds.”
They went home, crawled in bed and fell right asleep.
Trixie dozed for a while, then woke with a leap.
She ran to the window and pulled up the blind.
She peered into the darkness, and what did she find?
Nothing. No footprints. Just the snow all agleam.
“No Santa,” she thought. “It was all just a dream.”
She turned from the window, looked toward her nightstand,
and reached out slowly with a small shaking hand.
She looked at a picture in its shining frame.
Since she’d met the Bob Whites she was never the same.
She looked at the moon, shining so bright
“Happy Christmas,” she thought, “And to all a good night.”
Merry Christmas to all the BWBs.
***************
This is a submission to Happy Holidays VIII. The required element is a holiday photograph.
Also used is a gift and an unexpected guest.
Huge amounts of thanks to Zap who maintains this site and gives us a place to post and read. Thank you so much Zap!
These characters are the property of Random House. I’m borrowing them without permission, getting no money for writing this, and using them with utmost respect.