‘TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS IN EAST COUNTY

Printer-friendly versionPrinter-friendly version Share this

December 2019

 

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all across East County

Not a creature was stirring, from Borrego to El Monte.

Cowboy boots were hung by chimneys with care

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

 

From Barona to Ramona, Jacumba to Jamul

East County residents celebrating the Yule

Have taken time from gift wraps and home-cooked dishes

To send Santa their heartfelt holiday wishes.

 

Santee drivers are asking Santa and crew

To make a new lane for Highway 52.

Lemon Grove residents hope elves will bring cash

To fill up their budget gap--with extra to stash.

 

Rural residents are asking Santa to please

Bring them new fire insurance policies.

Parents want children to learn reading and writing

And Cajon Valley’s school board to please stop its fighting.

 

Julian folks want Santa to bring some snow tires

For ambulances and engine trucks heading to fires,

Along with more parking for tourists who go

To frolic and play in the new fallen snow.

 

Duncan Hunter is dreaming of a pardon,

From President Trump in the White House rose garden.

Ammar, Darrel, Brian, and Carl want to be

The next Congressman back in Washington D.C.

 

In Casa de Oro, where pot shops abound,

Residents wants them all shut down.

In La Mesa, where weed sales are legal next year,

The City Council hopes revenues will bring in good cheer.

 

In Rancho San Diego, the neighbors pray

For Cotttonwood Sand Mine to just go away.

El Cajon hopes its hotel and theater will succeed,

And also asks help for people in need.

 

While most folks are snuggled all warm in their beds,

East County’s homeless want roofs over their heads.

On sidewalks and in riverbeds, in their stocking caps

They tried settling down for cold winter's naps.





When up in the sky there arose such a clatter,

They sprang from their sleeping bags to see what was the matter.

Away to the tent flaps they flew like a flash,

Tore open the front flaps and out they did dash.



 

The moon on the breast of the sidewalks below

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects aglow,

When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,

But a magical sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

They knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

Beside the wild parrots, his reindeer they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;



 

"Now Dasher, now Dancer! now Prancer and Vixen!

On Comet! on Cupid! On Donder and Blitzen!

To the top of the hill!  Then the new border wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"



 

As dry leaves that before Santa Ana winds fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So in through the treetops the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of gifts, and St. Nicholas too.

 

And then, in a twinkling, they heard a dog woof,

At the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As they drew in their heads, and were turning around,

Down St. Nicholas came to their camp with a bound.



 

He was dressed in faux fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with pine tar and soot;

A bundle of gifts he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a homeless man opening his pack.



 

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;



 

An Indian peace pipe he held tight in his teeth,

And its smoke encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, when he laughed like Julian apple jelly.

 

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

So all laughed when they saw him, in spite of themselves;

A wink of his eye and a nod of his head,

Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread;



 

He spoke not a word, but turned with a jerk,

Filling wishes for food, toys, clothing and work,

Then laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, to the heavens he rose;



 

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down on a thistle

But all heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Merry Christmas, East County, and to all a good night!”



 


Error message

Support community news in the public interest! As nonprofit news, we rely on donations from the public to fund our reporting -- not special interests. Please donate to sustain East County Magazine's local reporting and/or wildfire alerts at https://www.eastcountymedia.org/donate to help us keep people safe and informed across our region.