Christmas Books
By
*Gypsy Joy*
Dedicated to All celebrating the Feast of
St. Nicholas on Dec.5/6th.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas…
This may well be the most disputed and revered book ever written.
In 1823 the poem was published anonymously.
In 1837 the book was attributed in print to the author
Clement Clarke Moore.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Visit_from_St._Nicholas
As is told the author’s inspiration for the character of
St.Nicholas was a Dutch handyman and Saint Nicholas himself.
Each year on the evening of the 5th of December and the 6th,
the Saint’s feast day, the Dutch celebrate their “Sinterklaas”.
While their litlle offspring are tucked in bed dreaming about
the goodies and presents they will find in the morning,
Dutch families, often with relatives and friends,
gather for a fun gift exchange evening.
Gifts may be hidden in a hilarious made-up package frequently
accompanied with a pun-poem, all in good fun.
The gift itself may hint to a character flaw or
an occasion experienced during the year.
The Dutch Sinterklaas who rides on his beautiful stallion “Amerigo”,
has happy noble knights young and old adore.
On the night of the 5th of December “Sinterklaas” rides on
his white horse and his noble knights glide down the chimneys
to fill the shoes and boots by the fireplace with goodies and toys.
On the nights leading to the festivity,
his noble knights may leave some goodies.
But only when the children have been very good.
http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/netherlands/
Enjoy Clement Clark Moore’s Christmastide poem here below.
‘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, on Donner 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 peddler, 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!”
