A Gift From Santa

February 4, 2018
By WinterSilverMoon SILVER, Ashburn, Virginia
WinterSilverMoon SILVER, Ashburn, Virginia
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

'Twas the night two days before Christmas, and all was just swell,
Not a squeak not a creak, not even my new cell;
A roll of stockings hung by the fireplace,
The Christmas tree dressed up and stood with grace;
With a red wreath on the door and shimmering lights,
It made me so jealous, it made me seem less bright;
With powder sugar like snow that made the whole world white,
The people who drove by sighed and said: “ahh~ What a sight!”
The parents were tired from hot coco pouring,
So, they took a competition of crazy loud snoring;
Moms’ do grow but dad’s the pro;
The cute little children all caught some Zs.
While they dreamed of playing in their jammies;
Wait just a minute, an empty bed? Where is the littlest mutt?
Oh, no! Oh, great, just what I needed, what a pain in my butt;
But look, on the porch, wrapped in a heavy winter’s coat,
It was a girl, who felt like she’s down in a mope;
It's Jaclyn alright, but she seemed so much sadder,
Why is she so glum? What is the matter?
When up on the roof came such a clatter,
She jumped to her feet and held in her bladder;
Then a jolly old red guy came down the ladder,
He laughed and said: “Ho, Ho, Ho. Hey kid, why so shattered?”
Her mouth dropped wide open, like she had no jaws;
She said surprisingly: “Why! You’re Santa Claus!”
Dressed all in fluff, from head to foot,
He was all shiny and clean, no ashes no soot;
His cotton like beard over a winning grin,
His nose like a rose and pink to the cold skin;
A sparkle in his eyes seem to warm up the porch,
Like a magical fire lighting up a dream torch;
His little round belly, dark red not yellow,
Jiggled when poked, like a bowl of jello;
“Santa,” she asked, “Why are you here? Today’s not Christmas Eve.”
“Well dear,” he said while scratching his head, “The truth’s kinda hard to believe.”
“I’m here with old Rudolph, he needs some practice, ya see,”
Santa leaned in and whispered: “Just between you and me,”
“He’s been eating too much of my wife’s sugar cookies.”
Rudolph snorted a grunt, and stomped his hoof,
As if saying: “I heard that red guy, so what, big whoop.”
His cheeks turn pinker as his chuckles rang like bells,
And she laughed with him, and for a second she looked well;
“So kid, what’s wrong? Why the sad frown?”
“I’m here for you, to turn that upside down.”
Jaclyn looked up, with tears in her eyes,
“It was a bully,” she said, “He made me cry.”
“He gave me this coal, said it was just like me,”
“Hard, bleak and very dusty.”
“He said I’m a loser, present, future, or past,”
“That I will always be a weird outcast.”
By now she had two long teary streams,
Like she was just in a monstrous dream;
“What a nasty boy, he’ll on the naughty list,”
“Don’t listen to him, he’s no honest,”
“You’re a sweat kid and I should know,”
“You’re on the nice list, it’s in my studio.”
“So what if you were this little gray block,”
“You’ll be able to change into something that rocks!”
“When you add some pressure and some heat,”
“It’ll transform itself, voici, c’est magnifiques!”
Jaclyn stared unbelievingly in Santa’s hand,
A diamond lay there, peaceful and grand;
“This is for you,” and he flashed her a smile,
“So you can remember this lessen, at least for a while;”
“Like this piece of coal, your journeys will be long,”
“It’ll be hard and rough, and sometimes you’ll be wrong.”
“It’ll be like a row boat in a sea storm, like being chocked by someone strong,”
“You’ll be knocked around hard, as if playing human ping-pong.”
“But finally when the sun dose peak out, believe me it will,”
“That’s when you’ll be joyful, happy and thrilled.”
“You’ll be a star,” and he held up the crystal,
It glistened and glimmered, not dull or small;
When she whipped around to find no Santa at all,
But then she heard the clank of hooves against the brick wall;
Just as they left the tiles on the roof,
He gave her that look of pure jolly goof;
She heard him exclaim, as he looked back to his friend;
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good weekend!”

The author's comments:

The Christmas spirit of love and compassion inspired me to write this. I was once a shy kid that got pushed around by boys when I was little, so when my younger sister was having trouble at school around Christmas time, I tried to help her with the problem by making up this story, and later changing it into a rhyming poem. I hope this story brings joy and comfort into the hearts of kids who may be seeking a way to relate their pain in literature. Thank you.  

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer