I have been many things along my life's journey. I grew up a farmer and have been a mechanic, a computer programmer, a security guard, a funeral director, to name a few. I have done these things to pay the bills as I worked through school and the early years of ministry. But one thing I have never been is a poet. I am no poet and I know it. But I have made the effort for you, dear reader, to add to your holiday cheer. Enjoy.

Read to the rhythm of The Night Before Christmas 

Twas the night after Thanksgiving, when all through the house, 

Not a stomach was settled, not even the mouse.

The carcass was stuffed in the bag full of trash,

The leftovers lay there, just some turkey hash. 

The children were stuffed and sprawled on their beds,

Sent there to sleep right after their meds.

And Granny with a shoe off and Grandpa with a snore

Were slumped in their rockers and taking no more.

When out in the street there arose a loud flurry,

A Wal-Mart truck down shifting to stop in a hurry. 

I threw the door open and yelled to the night,

"HEY, BUTTON IT UP AND GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

The diesel vapors spewed through the bare trees, 

And fogged up the night and stank up the breeze.

When what to my red, itchy eyes should appear. 

But an angry driver with a crowbar held near.

The mean looking driver looked tired and worn,

His coat was in tatters and his jeans were all torn.

He beat his bar on that big truck,

I sighed with relief for I was in luck.

"YOU SORRY OLD TRUCK, OH HOW I HATE YOU!

OH WHY CAN'T I GET A TRUCK THAT IS NEW?"

His feelings were clear, he wasn't mad at all,

Just frustrated with his rig and ready to bawl.

"Hey, buddy, is there a real big problem for you?

Is there something you need, or I can do?"

He whirled around, saw me and sighed.

"No sir," he said weary, "But with this truck now has died."

I have driven all night to get to Wal-Mart out here,

So people who abide can have their Black Friday cheer.

But lo, this junk cannot take this grade, 

It is not worth the money my employer has paid."

Within my heart there arose a great fear,

No Black Friday, no shopping, no joy this year?!?

"Now wait, my friend, perhaps I can aid.

AAA is close by and to them I have paid."

They came in a hurry and fixed that old truck, 

And it did not cost me, not even a buck.

The driver was so happy, he gave me a hug,

"Black Friday is saved! To the store I must lug!"

With a smile he turned and to the cab he did scamper

The motor ran fine, not even a whimper.

His joy was complete as he slammed in the gear, 

And he shouted aloud, "Happy Black Friday this year!"

------With apologies to the Rev. Clement Clarke Moore who wrote 'The Night Before Christmas' for his children.