[or-roots] Merry Christmas

[Lorraine Works]

              Twas the Night Before Christmas

              For Genealogists

               
             

              'Twas the night before Christmas 
              when all through the house 
              Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse. 
              The dining room table with clutter was spread 
              With pedigree charts and with letters which said:

              "Too bad about the data for which you wrote. 
              It sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat." 
              Stacks of old copies of wills and of such 
              Were proof that my work had become much too much. 

              Our children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
              While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads. 
              And I at my table was ready to drop 
              From work on my album with photos to crop.

              Christmas was here, and of such was my lot 
              That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot. 
              Had I not been so busy with grandparents' wills, 
              I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills. 

              While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas cheer, 
              I'd spent time researching those birthdates and years. 
              While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
              A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a fright. 

              Away to the window I flew in a flash, 
              Tore open the drapes and I yanked up the sash. 
              When what to my nearsighted eyes should appear, 
              But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer. 

              Up to the housetop the reindeer they flew 
              With a sleigh full of toys, and ol' Santa Claus, too. 
              And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
              The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.

              The TV antenna was no match for their horns, 
              And look at my roof, with hoof-prints adorned! 
              As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash, 
              Down the cold chimney fell Santa - KEE-RASH!

              Dear Santa had come from the roof in a wreck 
              And tracked soot on the carpet! I could just wring his neck! 
              Spotting my face, good old Santa could see 
              I had no Christmas spirit, you'd have to agree. 

              He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work 
              And filled all the stockings. (I felt like a jerk). 
              Here was Santa who'd brought us such gladness and joy; 
              When I'd been too busy for even one toy. 

              He spied my research on the table all spread. 
              "A genealogist!", he cried (My face was all red). 
              "Tonight I've met many like you", Santa grinned, 
              As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned. 

              I gazed with amazement - the cover, it read: 
              "Genealogy Lines For Which You Have Plead". 
              "I know what it's like as a genealogy bug", 
              He said as he gave me a great Santa hug. 

              "While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
              I do some research in the North Pole Library!"
              "A special treat I am thus able to bring 
              To genealogy folks who can't find a thing."

              "Now off you go to your bed for a rest - 
              I'll clean up the house of this genealogy mess". 
              As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee, 
              I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me. 

              While settling in bed, I heard Santa's clear whistle 
              To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle. 
              And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight,

              "Family history is fun! Merry Christmas! Good night!" 
       
               
       

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