'Twas on a snowy Christmas Eve when sad goodnights were said,
And Beth and little Billy trudged upstairs and went to bed.
Their pillows soon were damp with tears that trickled from their eyes,
And both their little bosoms heaved with deep, despairing sighs.
Because tonight their father had a solemn order given
That both of them must be in bed upon the stroke of Seven ...

Instead of letting them stay up
'Til nine o'clock---and what was more,
He'd told them some disturbing things
Which they had never heard before:

That Christmastime was foolishness, and maybe too, a sin!
For Santa Claus was just a myth---a saint who'd never been!
And how he hoped that after this he nevermore would hear
Of how he came down chimney-flues with presents every year.

So in their bedroom now the children covered up their heads;
Though both of them were restless and were tossing in their beds.
The clock upon the mantelpiece was softly chiming Ten,
And not a word had either of them murmured until then.
When from his rumpled blankets little Billy's face did peep,
And whispered, ''Beth, are you awake, or are you fast asleep?''
''I'm wide awake,'' his sister said amid her mournful sighs;
''I've tried to sleep for hours, but I've hardly closed my eyes.
It's just I'm so upset tonight, and all of it's because
Our Daddy said that never has there been a Santa Claus.
We know that Santa Claus is real!'' she sobbed and sadly cried,
''Because he came here ev'ry year before our Mama died.

''Do you remember how she used
To kneel by us each night and pray?
And Jesus always seemed to hear
Whatever Mama had to say . . .

''And maybe she had asked the Lord to send His Santa here,
With all those pretty presents that he brought us ev'ry year.''
''Well why don't we both pray just like our Mama used to then,
And ask the Lord to send him back with presents here again?''
Suggested little Billy. So then saying nothing more,
Both the children scrambled up and out upon the floor;
And side by side, they knelt between their warmly quilted beds,
Where they, as one, then clasped their hands and bowed their little heads.
Then Beth reminded Billy: ''What we ask, you must believe
That God in heaven hears us, and His blessings we'll receive.
So just be very quiet 'til you hear me say 'Amen',
And you can pray the Lord the things you wish to ask for then.''

''Dear Jesus, please look down tonight on Billy and on me,
And grant us both some special things we wish to ask of Thee.
For Christmas could I have a doll that I can hug and swing,
Or maybe just a music-box that winds up with a spring?

'And bless our Daddy, Lord, I pray,
So he may see and understand
That Mama's love is with us still,
And that we all are in Your hand.

Let Santa bring him something to remember Mama by,
So Daddy won't be sad, and Santa Claus he won't deny.
He only gets so lonely, Lord, just ev'ry now and then,
'Cause Mama's with your angels up in heaven now . . . Amen.''

Then 'twas little Billy's turn, whose eyes were filled with tears;
And yet he prayed so fervently, despite his tender years:
'''We love you, Jesus, very much, and Daddy loves you too.
He only gets upset sometimes 'cause Mama's there with You.

'So let him know that Mama's well,
So ev'rything will be all right;
And send him something really nice
To make him glad this Christmas night.''

Then Billy faltered just a bit before he stammered on:
''And please let Santa visit us before the night is gone.
I'd like a sled that's painted red . . . Or any kind of toy;
And we'll be good---we promise, Lord . . . Amen,'' intoned the boy.

Now when his prayer was ended both the children raised their heads,
And feeling rather better now got back into their beds.
Thus soon they both were slumbering so peacefully and deep,
And dreaming of an angel singing softly in their sleep.

Now earlier, before the clock had started chiming Ten,
Their father fell to thinking of his children once again.

''Now why was I so hard upon
My little ones?'' he said;
''And I should not have sent them off
As punishment, to bed!

''For then my mind was troubled, and my judgment was remiss---
And neither did I give them, either one, their good-night kiss;
But I will make amends and their forgiveness I'll implore,
For never with my children have I been so harsh before.''

His mind resolved, he now arose and softly climbed the stairs,
To stand beside their open door . . . and hear their whispered prayers.
His daughter's 'bless our Daddy' made him weep a wistful tear;
And Billy's fervent promise was a moving thing to hear.

So strange that I'd forgotten thought the father to himself,
How much I longed for Christmas-time when I was young myself!

Now I shall make it up to them,
And try to banish all their doubt;
I'll somehow find the things they want,
If I, myself, must go without!

Then silently he turned around, and down the stairs he crept;
For now he planned to drive to town while Beth and Billy slept.
He left their Grandma waiting up until he could return,
For she was quite delighted when his secret plans she learned.

So in his hat and coat and boots, he trudged the frozen street:
A humbled man who faced the driving snow and icy sleet;
And then he found, about to close, a small department store,
But when the owner heard him out, he opened wide his door!

Then with the bearded owner's aid,
He quickly gathered rather more
Than just the things he'd overheard
His precious children praying for.

Yet now the owner handed him a crimson woolen sack,
At which the father wondered, for the bag was tightly packed!
''Now every other thing you need is in this sack contained;
And all I freely give to you,'' the kindly man explained.
Quite mystified, the father traveled homeward with his load,
And there, with Grandma's help, he soon had every item stowed
Around in circles all about a handsome Christmas tree,
That Grandma said a stranger brought, and gave to her for free!
He'd placed it in the spacious room beside the children's own---
Then softly closed the door between, as if their plans he'd known!

So thus beneath its branches now
The presents, gifts and toys were laid,
Just like a Christmas fairy-tale:
A wondrous Toyland on parade!

A very lovely doll was sitting on a wooden sled
With shining metal runners (and its deck was painted red)!
Behind the sled, a music-box with jewels shone and twinkled:
The kind that wound up with a spring and sweetly chimed and tinkled;
And leading this procession was a wooden Noah's Ark,
With lines of pairs of tiny beasts just waiting to embark;

And hobby-horses, story-books---
So many things of youthful glee!
And birds of every color perched
Upon the branches of the tree!

For these were decorations which the woolen sack contained;
And with these pretty ornaments they found a toy train
That now encircled tree and all on shiny little tracks . . .
Yet these were not the only things with which the bag was packed:
It held a little Angel dressed in velvet, snowy-white,
That last of all they placed atop the tree with great delight.
The sack was then forgotten in the corner where it lay,
As 'round the tree the father walked to view its grand display.
His heart was light and happy, though he wiped away some tears,
Because he hadn't felt this way in long forgotten years.
''I'll make it my tradition from now on, I do believe,
To play the part of Santa Claus on every Christmas Eve,''
The father whispered softly; and then turning off the light,
Both he and Grandma silently retired for the night.

The door between was open when the light of early dawn
Brought Beth and Billy both awake without a single yawn;
And in that moment both the children's eyes then opened wide,
Because the pretty tree---and all the toys---they espied.
They laughed and cried in all their young exuberance and glee,
And caroled: ''Daddy, Granny! Quick, get up and come and see!''
So when they both came in the children proudly then displayed
The tree and all the presents which around it were arrayed.

So gently then his daughter said,
''Oh Daddy, now do you believe
That Santa Claus is really real,
And comes on ev'ry Christmas Eve?''

Her father was about to say as how he must agree,
When little Billy clambered up and sat upon his knee,
To tell him how their mother used to kneel at night and pray,
To thank the Lord, and ask Him for His blessings every day:
''So me and Beth got up and prayed the very best we could--
And both our prayers was answered too! Now isn't Jesus good?''
The father hugged his children then and gave them each a kiss.
''He surely is,'' he told them both, ''to send you all of this!''
(Well, let them think there really is a jolly Christmas Elf;
'Twould be unkind to tell them that I did it all myself),
Bethought the father while he hugged his children once again . . .
And then there happened something which he could not comprehend:
For then it was that Beth had spied the crimson woolen sack,
And peeked inside, to find it wasn't empty yet, in fact!
''Oh Daddy, look, it's Santa's sack, and something's still inside!
Some gifts for you and Granny---and a letter too!'' she cried.

For sure enough, there was a pair
Of tiny packages within,
Which Beth took out and handed them
While she and Billy widely grinned.
The parcel labeled 'Grandma' had
A scarlet velvet ribbon-bow;
And held her daughter's likeness in
A lovely silver cameo!

Yet with the other gift there was attached a folded note
On which the father's Christian name, in golden ink, was wrote.
Though first he opened up the gift to see what it contained:
A handsome golden pocket watch with matching fob and chain!
And on the watch's cover was a message written too,
In simple words engraved: 'My Love will Always be with You.'
Yet then he cried, for there inside the golden watch's lid,
A tiny portrait of his dear departed wife was hid!

Then these wondrous gifts within the children's hands they placed,
And watched them gaze in awe upon their mother's lovely face.
'Now go and play!' the father said before he took the note,
And opened it to find another stirring message wrote:

O foolish man! why are you blinded by your worldly cares,
And seldom seek for guidance when your burdened soul despairs?
Who was it do you think that made your hardened heart relent,
And all your hasty words to reconsider---and repent?

Our Father up in heaven 'twas
Who prompted you to go upstairs,
Where all the same, you then became
His answer to their Christmas prayers;

And neither think of me as just a foolish children's myth,
For doing special deeds of Love---of all, the finest gift!
Nor yet forget the things our Savior teaches us to do,
For Christmas would have never been . . . did He not love us too!

©  Roy Richards


This is something I wrote some years back,
based upon a Christmas story read to me
when I was about five years old.
The book my Mom read it from was somehow
lost after that Christmas, but it made a
lasting impression upon me. I have merely tried
to recreate the gist of the tale through verse,
but with a different---and hopefully better---ending.