Who Stole Christmas?

Now that the presents have been opened and Santa has made his yearly debut, it is my hope that everyone can reflect on the Christmas season with fond memories of merry celebrations and all of the joy that the season creates. For all of those who worry that they didn’t jam their schedules full of enough Christmas activities or fear they may have hurt junior’s feelings by having not purchased all fifty items on his “wish” list, allow me to officially let you off the hook! Too often parents get so caught up in providing a “perfect Christmas” and spend the new year with feelings of buyer’s remorse for having splurged on the “must have toy” –remember the Tickle-Me-Elmo doll from the nineties? Others are overwhelmed with feelings of grief from having spent too much time working to make the perfect memory and not enough time being a part of it. It is often these same individuals who get angry at their spouses for not sharing a zeal for going (dare I say) “over-the-top” with festive flare. For these reasons and more, many parents put so much pressure on themselves this time of year it is easy to see how many forget to enjoy the true meaning of the season.

For all those described above (myself included!), I have written the following adaptation from one of my favorite Christmas classics “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore. This adaptation is a couple of years old and may be recognized by some readers, but I feel it remains relevant for many of us.

(Adapted by Bectoria L. Stafford-Crandall from “The Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore)

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house

Mom’s fed everyone amply so that no one could grouse

The handmade stockings were hung by the chimney with care

So that St. Nick would notice their decorative flare

The In-laws were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of their return flights home danced in Mom’s head

With Mama in the kitchen

Dad took a nap

When he sees all the gifts he’ll ask “how much was this crap?”

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter

Dad sprang from the couch to see what was the matter

Outside a plastic Santa exploded in a flash

While tearing down shutters and lights with one crash

The torn down ornaments as they rest on the new fallen snow

Made Mom flustered as she looked out the adjacent window

When what to her horrified eyes should appear but a small flaming sleigh and eight incinerated reindeer

With their little old driver now melted to brick,

She knew in a moment they came with the plastic St. Nick

More rapid than eagles Dad extinguished the flames

While Mom bristled and shouted and called Dad some names

That Dasher! That Dancer! That Prancer! That Vixon!

That Comet! That Cupid! That Donder! That Blitzen!

"I didn’t want them on the porch! I told you that at the mall!

Now throw the lawn ornaments away! Melted plastic and all!"

As dry leaves before a wild hurricane fly Dad’s temper met with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So out of the house as coursers he flew

Throwing out all his burnt toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then in a twinkling, she heard on the roof

The grunting and struggling from that stubborn old goof

As she drew in her head and was turning around

Down the chimney her Christmas lights came in a bound

This caused her to stir from her head to her foot

As she looked at her once twinkling lights now tarnished with ashes and soot

A bundle of burnt toys Dad had flung on his back

As he came in like a peddler to open his garbage sack

His eyes- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow

And poor Mama’s face was as white as the snow

She stomped to the door and clenched tightly her teeth

She turned around and encircled Dad’s head with the wreath

She pulled it past his broad face and then patted his belly

It shook when he flinched like a bowlful of jelly

He called her chubby and plump, like a jolly old elf

He had to laugh when he said this in spite of himself

A wink of her eye and a twist of her head

Soon gave him to know he had something to dread

She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work

Threw out his golf clubs, then called him a jerk,

He exclaimed “I’m so sorry” as she went for his fishing poles

And then giving a nod, she quickly froze

As he completed her Christmas Eve“honey-do” list, her anger did fizzle

When he was done, to bed he flew like the down of a thistle

And she lovingly whispered as she turned out the light

Happy Christmas to all and y’all better sleep tight!
Sometimes all a well-meaning parent needs is to take a step back and reflect on what is truly important. It is healthy for parents to remind themselves that children probably don’t want their parents to be stressed out and overburdened with details and tasks, especially at such a magical time of year as Christmas. Children who are shuttled all over and forced to partake in every single “Christmassy” activity available by well-meaning but frenzied parents may reflect back and ask “who stole Christmas”? Instead, families just may benefit from parents prescribing themselves a yuletide “chill pill” and putting emphasis on small but special memories rather than jamming as much forced cheer into the holiday season as is humanly possible. Perhaps taking a moment to enjoy the magic of the season through the eyes of a child will spark an appreciation for those simpler things that make the season so great and time with family feel that much more special.