'Twas
the night before Christmas, |
when
all through the abode |
Only
one creature was stirring, |
and she
was cleaning the commode. |
|
The
children were finally sleeping |
all
snug in their beds, |
while
Visions of Nintendo and |
Barbie
flipped through their heads. |
|
The dad
was snoring |
in
front of the TV, |
With a half-constructed bicycle |
propped on his knee. |
|
So only Mom heard the
|
reindeer hooves clatter, |
Which made her sigh, |
"Now what is the matter?" |
|
With the toilet bowl brush |
still clutched in her hand, |
She descended the stairs |
and saw the old man. |
|
|
He was covered with ashes
and soot, |
which fell with a shrug, |
"Oh, great," muttered
Mom, |
"now I have to clean the
rug." |
|
"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa,
|
"I'm glad you're awake, |
your gift was especially
|
difficult to make." |
|
but all I want is time
alone." |
"Exactly!" he chuckled, |
"So, I've made you a
clone." |
|
"A clone?" she muttered,
|
"What good is that?" |
"Run along, Santa,
|
I've no time for chit
chat." |
|
Then out walked the clone
- |
The Mother's twin; |
Same hair, same eyes,
|
same double chin. |
|
|
"She'll cook, she'll dust, |
she'll mop every mess. |
You'll relax, take it easy, |
watch The Young and The Restless." |
|
"Fantastic!" the Mom cheered. |
"My dream has come true!" |
"I'll shop, I'll read, |
I'll sleep a whole night through!" |
|
From the room above, |
the youngest did fret. |
"Mommy? Come quickly, |
I'm scared and I'm wet." |
|
The clone replied, |
"I'm coming, sweetheart." |
"Hey," the Mom smiled, |
"she sure knows her part." |
|
The clone changed the small one |
and hummed her a tune, |
as she bundled the child |
in a blanket cocoon. |
|
|
"You're the best mommy ever. |
I really love you." |
The clone smiled and sighed, |
"And I love you, too." |
|
The Mom frowned and said, |
"Sorry, Santa, it's no deal. |
That's my child's love |
she is trying to steal." |
|
Smiling wisely, Santa said, |
"To me it is clear, |
Only one loving Mother |
is needed here." |
|
The Mom kissed her child |
and tucked her in bed. |
"Thank you, Santa, |
for clearing my head. |
|
I sometimes forget, |
it won't be very long, |
when they'll be too old |
for my cradle and song." |
|
The clock on the mantle |
began to chime. |
Santa whispered to the clone, |
"It works every time." |
|
With the clone by his side, |
Santa said, "Good night. |
Merry Christmas, dear Mom, |
you will be all right." |
|
|
|
By . . .
Karen Spiegler
(Originally published in
December 1993 issue of Manic
Moms)
One of the greatest gifts God
can give is our children -
just as God's greatest Gift came as a child.
During these crazy weeks before Christmas, as you shop and bake and clean and
decorate and mail cards. . . think of this as a reminder to take a moment for
extra hugs and kisses and make sure your children know how much you love them.
That's what it's all about anyway, right?
|
DEDICATED TO
ALL MOMS, THE WORLD OVER |
Merry Christmas
! |