Twas the night before Christmas when all through our place, An ear-splitting quietness filled every space.

Our schoolbooks were stored in our lockers so dear; The longed-for vacation was finally here. My brother Len and I were flopped on our cots, Anxiety twisting our tummies in knots.

Len’s hopes for this Christmas involvedman iPod; I wanted barbells to create a new bod. Just then on our deck I saw someone much fatter

Than me even after I’ve downed three Fri-Patters. Away to the window I flew like a duck, Had St. Nick at night come? Were we now in luck?

That’s when I recognized our portly neighbor, A man we call Mister Mortimer Tabor. He said, “Sorry I slid into the railing; I had not noticed that it has been hailing.”

And then Mortimer Tabor, so lively and slick,mGave us a present, then dashed away quick. Len ripped off the wrapping and looked in the box; The gift wasn’t cash or gold from Fort Knox.

‘Twas handmade paper with words written upon, And here’s what it said (you can read, can’t you, mon?): “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).

Then I looked at Len and Len looked back at me, Were our thoughts the same, could we both clearly see? That Christmas was more than a brand-new iPod, That the best gift of all was the Son of God!

“Forget Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen!” I cried. “Who needs Comet or Cupid or Donner or Blitzen? Now that Jesus has come, heaven is mine! No Barbie or iPod could be quite that fine!”

Yes, that Mortimer T. knew just what we needed, The news of a Savior–good news to be heeded.

Then I heard Mort bump our trash can and topple; I pictured him covered with all kinds of slopple. But Len and I figured he didn’t much care, He was thinking of heaven and seeing us there. And if this Christmas you choose to follow the Light, Then we’ll see you in heaven—have a good flight!