A New Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, in a room in the shelter,

A single mom lies awake thinking of the hand life had dealt her.

Just one stocking (for three kids) was hung on the fridge with care,

In hopes that something... anything... would be there.

Her children were nestled on a mattress, a couch and a bed,

While visions of a real home danced in their heads.

And mom in her ‘kerchief, and her youngest child in a cap,

Could not settle their brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out in the street there arose such a clatter,

But this was not new, something always was the matter.

Silently through the window the police lights would flash,

She walked over to the shutters and pulled down the sash.

The moon in the puddles of the parking lot gravel,
Gave the lustre of hope in a life quick to unravel.

When, what to her sleepy mind should appear,

But a revelation for the future, it all seemed so clear.

The thoughts in her head, came so lively and quick,

She knew in a moment she must write them down so they’d stick.

More rapid than eagles, these ideas... they came,

So she scrambled for paper and pen, and and wrote them down by name!

Now, Dignity! now, Health Care! now, Full-time Employment!

On, Independence! on, Education ! on, a Life of Enjoyment!

To the top of the shelter! Through the second-story hall!

Please make these true! Make these true! Make these true, all!

“Santa can’t save us,” she mused with a whistle,

And strenghtened her resolve with determination and gristle.

But I heard her sigh, ‘while her kids slept out of sight,

“This can be a Happy Christmas for us, I will make it a good night!”