Twas the Night Before Christmas at the Finca

In the spirit of the season, here is an adapted version of a holiday classic to let you all know what we at the farm will be up to this Christmas Eve…

¨Twas the Night before Christmas at the Finca¨

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the farm
Not a child was restless, nor even clinging to my arm.
The stockings were hung by the fagon (our stoves) with care,
In hopes that Santa Claus and the volunteers soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of quinceñera waltzes danced in their heads.
And the house parents in their PJs, and I in my own,
Had just settled our brains for a long tropical nap.

When out on the soccer field there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like house three´s favorite hero Superman,
Tore open the wooden shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the freshly raked sand
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and 22 tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be San Nick.
More rapid than a call for seconds in the vol house his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

¨Now Amanda! Now, Deirdre! Now Betsy and Mary Kate!
Now Tami! Now Lily! Now Nils and Felipe!
Now Rachel, Jacob, Jonah, Isaac, and Ruben!
On, Keenan! On, Kate! On Erin and Alisha!
On, Ted! On, Sheena! On Scarleth and Georleny!
On Nely, Kristina, and Francesca!

To the top of the church! to the top of the newly built fence wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As our 22 beloved vols that amidst the wild hurricanes continue to serve,
When they meet with a huelga (strike) forming a road block, mount to the sky.

So up to the house-tops the vols 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 well worn sandal.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Up through the pila (our water basin style sinks) 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, cloro(x) stains, and soot.

A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a vol, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose sun burnt like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like an upside down bean,
And the beard of his chin was untidy like that of a late teen.

He held his nalgene bottle tight in his hand,
As his lanyard encircled the top band.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of Ceiba store bought 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, down the pila he goes!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the finca cars on a Sunday mass trip.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!

Paz,
Mary Kate