The Writing on the Wall: How the Christ stole Christmas

A holiday tale, narrated by Boris Karloff
By Brian Goodman, opinion editor
Posted on December 7, 2006

Everyone down in Churchville liked Christmas a lot,
In very large part ‘cause of all the stuff that they got.

The folks all loved Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
It was their best time of year for many a-reason.
They loved all the food, all the long strings of light
The displays in the mall and their lit homes at night.
But I think the best reason that I can provide
Was that it made them feel warm and toasty inside.

But whatever the reason, the decorations or elves,
They all loved the holidays because of themselves.
Their minds never turned to they who were trodden down
Living in the big city near their picturesque town.
They paid no attention to their neighbors in need
For it was the night before Christmas and there was pride to feed.

Christmas Eve was a time to gather in throngs
For the Christmas Eve service, where they sang the old songs.
They knew all the words but knew not what they mean,
Though it made them feel good as they read off the screen.

But while they were gathered in the warmth of their church,
A suspicious figure roamed about on a search.
He had no beauty or majesty to which one would cling
Yet it was quite apparent that he was a king.

He wandered about looking but the prospects seemed grim
For no part of the festivities seemed to be about him.
“It’s all about them, now,” the glum Christ did say
“I thought they’d remember me on this day.”

All the windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.
All the folks were at church, so no one was there
As he made his way to the Churchville town square.
And as the sad Christ-y Claus wiped away a sole tear,
He made every last piece of Christmas crap disappear.

And the one speck of Christmas
That he did leave back there
Were the donated gifts for those in foster care.

He left rather quickly; there was no need to stay
For there was much work to be done before the end of the day.
The Christ made haste for the congested city
Where people had problems and things weren’t so pretty.

So many places to go! Where would he start?
Since he was the Christ, he just followed his heart
He went to the orphanage, taught and played with the kids,
And then to the AIDS hospice, though convention forbids.

Then to the homeless shelter with those in from the cold
And the retirement center for the lonely and old.
He brought with him food so that thousands could eat
And paid every bill so they all could have heat.

He had come without ribbons! He had come without tags!
He had come without packages, boxes or bags!
But in love he had brought them, his sisters and brothers,
The true meaning of Christmas — the loving of others.

Every person he visited, the tall and the small,
Found the reason for the season, once and for all.
He hadn’t stopped Christmas from coming; it came.
But this time it involved him, and not just his name.

They all puzzled and puzzed, till their puzzlers were sore,
For no one had shown such love to them before.
“But you see Christmas,” he said, “doesn’t come from a mall.
My birth in that manger was to bring love to all.”

And what happened then? Well, in Churchville they said
That with no Christmas things the holiday was dead.
They stayed home with their heat on and tried hard to cope,
Never seeing the people who at last had some hope.

But now up in heaven, all the food at the feast
Will be eaten by those who on earth were the least.

Brian Goodman is a senior communications major.