Santa’s Christmas wish: more kindness and less vitriol

Editor:

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,

My laptop was open, I looked down and stared

Time to write this poem, the paper was still bare.

The children were grown up, moved out on their own,

But with the holidays here, they’d surely be home.

With my wife in her flannels, enjoying the bliss

Kathie wrapped some presents, while I worked on this.

When out on the lawn, there rose such a clamor

I forgot about the rhymes, the poem and the grammar,

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

And for the umpteenth time, fell flat on my a–.

The moon on the puddle of the new fallen rain

Gave credence to the theory, the climate had changed

When what to my wondering about the outside flap,

Apparently the neighbors’ dog, was just takin’ a crap.

Not far from Bowser, near the edge of the lawn

Were eight tiny reindeer … and one little fawn.

With a little old driver so lively and quick,

Bent over and heaving, I knew he was sick

More rapid than eagles the yard-cookies spewed

The optics were wretched, such a horrible view,

He got out a phone and made frantic calls,

He needed a doctor, so he called them all

“Now Oz and Phil, calling Kildare and Ben Casey,”

The little fat guy was dialing like crazy.

I pulled up the window, “What can I do?”,

He looked up and yelled, “I think it’s the flu.”

“I’ve been very busy, burdened with tasks”

“But such selfish people, who won’t wear their masks.”

And then with a smile, he took a last heave,

And cleaned off his beard with a swipe of his sleeve.

Then up to the roof top, did ol’ Santa bound,

With gifts in his bag, moonlight around,

His eyes how they twinkled, his color so ashen

But he kept on going, a heart full of passion,

He went straight to work, but different this time,

He lowered the presents on a simple clothesline.

Being real cautious and considerate of others,

Lest he infect the children, their dads and their mothers.

I rushed down the stairs, to help with his chores,

Went to the fireplace and saw gifts on the floor,

I untied the rope and sent back the tether,

Up the chimney it swept, as light as a feather,

Atop the gifts was an envelope to open,

A special message left, Santa had spoken

It was meant for all, for every family and house

I sensed it was something that Santa espoused,

So I opened the letter and felt warm and proud,

It was touching and honest, I’ll read it aloud:

“My dear friends I love you, but things have turned,

What you do to each other, has got me concerned,

Where cooperation and compromise once existed,

It’s sad to see, how it’s gotten so twisted,

Your hate, the vitriol, it’s all over the place,

The anger you have is all over your face,

Where is the tenderness, the caring of yore,

That would bring you together in the years before?

What has happened to you, to cause such a split

Surely not just the Covid, is the reason for it.

There was a time, when you’d all come together

To fight this disease, dissent and whatever.

I see that no more, it’s all push and shove,

So try this Christmas, to spread and give love,

Let it fill the emptiness, let it make you whole,

Let it ease the weariness and soothe your soul.

Do that my friends, and I promise you’ll rally.

Merry Christmas to all!” — and that’s … straight from the Valley.

Tom Valley

Medina