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Writer's pictureAngela Sanford

Twas the Month Before Christmas

An adaptation by Angela Sanford



’Twas the month before Christmas, when all through the land

Not a snowflake was falling, as the forecast had planned

The community was busy scheduling their fun

 In hopes that everything would have a smooth run.


To Santa, the children were crafting their lists 

While mothers were crafting even longer checklists ;

Noting each item they had left to buy,

In hopes of ensuring that no kid would cry.


Elves on the Shelves were beginning to stir,

Devising their pranks that families would have to endure 

Awaking those nestled all snug in their beds,

While thoughts of new mischief danced in parent’s heads;

And grandpa and I in matching pajamas

had just finished streaming another of Hallmark’s new dramas.


When under the tree the branches did rustle

I sprang from the sofa to attend to the bustle

Up the tree trunk our cat scurried fast

Knocking off each ornament just as it passed.


The star at the top of the freshly cut tree 

Soon lay on the floor in shattered debris.

I did nothing but shrug as the events quickly unfolded

except for judging the escape when the cat bolted.


The time soon arrived for Christmas in the Village

and I knew to attend would be such a privilege.

More excited than ever the community, they came,

And those on the hill could hear the villagers exclaim

“There’s craft sales, tree lighting, and Santa again  - 

Hot chocolate, and carolers, and candy canes in the glen!

Come to the grocery store and down to the hall!

To the escape room and face painting, come one and all!”


As everyone gathered ‘round the tree in the square

In hopes that Santa Claus soon would be there, 

to plug in the lights and brighten the tree,

As children ran ‘round full of such glee.


And then, in a panic, we heard screeching brakes

and turning ‘round to it,  had to give quite a shake - 

In disbelief of the sight we each blinked our eyes

For no one could imagine what ahead of us lie.


He was dressed all in white, black hat upon his head 

His body was melting as over the road he sped,

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he called out for Santa, who had forgotten his pack.

Clearly the saviour on this very eve

Through the baffled crowd, so he did weave 

Making sure that the sack, forgotten at Snapper’s

Was returned to its owner before anyone had grabbed’er.


Frosty lefty in a hurry to find someplace cold

So to preserve his body, having no time left to hold

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

Assuring us, then, that he was not headed South;


The chaos had ended and the night back on track

While carols were being sung by the spirited pack

Jamie and Santa bent down to plug the lights in

And that’s when I saw a jolly, bright grin;


Descending from high, way up in the air

And leading the landing atop Home Hardware

The team came down solid and steady

Patiently waiting for Santa to be ready.


The time had come for a return to the North; 

 to finish the prep for December 24th.

 Santa climbed in his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

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

 But we heard him exclaim, when they flew out of sight,

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

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