There’s still time!
Farm and Dairy would like to know what Christmas means to you, using one of the most beloved Christmas poems of all time, A Visit From St. Nicholas, also known as ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.
We’d like you to re-write the first four lines of the poem, using your own words to describe the holiday season — it can be humorous, dramatic, poignant, nostalgic or inspirational, as long as it describes your Christmas.
Example
Here are the first four lines of the original poem:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
Here’s a sample of what we are looking for from our readers:
‘Twas the night before Christmas, I was sipping my tea
When suddenly I remembered I had a frozen turkey!
I sprang from my perch, yanked the bird from the freezer
A ham would be easier, why couldn’t it be Easter?
If you feel ambitious, feel free to continue for a few more lines, or re-write the entire poem! (Although due to space issues, we may not be able to publish the entire poem.)
Your submissions will be posted on the Farm and Dairy website or published in the Dec. 20 issue of Farm and Dairy.
Submissions will be accepted through Dec. 11 by 5 p.m. Mail them to Farm and Dairy Christmas, P.O. Box 38, Salem, OH 44460 or email twardle@farmanddairy.com.
Include your name, hometown and phone number for verification.
A Visit from St. Nicholas is believed to be written Clement C. Moore, although there are also claims it was written by Henry Livingston, Jr.
Poem
Here is the poem in its entirety.
A Visit from St. Nicholas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her ’kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
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 the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”
