Musings from the Hill 14/25
Many of us have special Christmas memories of times long gone: traditions passed down from generation to generation. It is a part of Christmas we should endeavor to continue —links to our past.
I pass along this family tradition, the parody poem “T’was the Night Before Christmas” my mother Margaret van Haagen Howe wrote in 1955.
T’was the night before Christmas and all through the store
The customers were screaming, ”There must be one more!”
The manager hustled — (the sales girls all said)
While visions of more sales danced in his head.
The men in clean shirts, and girls watching the clock,
Were rushing around, looking hard for more stock.
The lights in the ceiling gave off such a glow,
That made goods on the counter, look better to show.
When down in the stock room, there arose such a clatter
I flew to the stairs to see what was the matter.
I went down to the stock room and looked astound,
And rolled my wondering eyes all around.
For all the nice candy to sell in the store
Was dirty and spilled all over the floor!
As I covered my eyes and looked at the ground,
Down the stairs our manager came with a bound.
He was dressed all in gray from his head to his foot
His nice clothes were spotted with dirt just like soot.
He had a sad face all covered with worry
His eyes did not winkle, his voice was not merry.
He said not a word, but went straight to work,
And swept up the candy, including the dirt.
And laying his finger at the side of his nose
He gave a grave nod, and up the stairs rose.
And I heard him exclaim, as I dove out of sight:
Oh well, the customers won’t know
What they are buying tonight.
Margaret van Haagen Howe 1895-1982