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Amy Lou Jenkins is the award-winning author of Every Natural Fact: Five Seasons of Open-Air Parenting

"If you combined the lyricism of Annie Dillard, the vision of Aldo Leopold, and the gentle but tough-minded optimism of Frank McCourt, you might come close to Amy Lou Jenkins.Tom Bissell author of The Father of All Things 

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Table Of Contents for IT'S CHRISTMAS

About the authors
Christmas Bazaar
Christmas Chiller
Christmas Quiz
Christmas Recipes
Christmas Recipes 2
Chritstmas Games
Contents
It's Christmas
Quiz answers
The Christmas Bride
The Crossroads at Midnight
Welcome
Xmas Gifts
Free Extras For Everyone

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

from the film Meet Me In St. Louis

Hugh Martin, Ralph Blane 1943

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Let your heart be light From now on, our troubles will be out of sight
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, Make the Yule-tide gay, From now on, our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more.

Through the years we all will be together If the Fates allow Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

 

The Night Before Christmas

A Visit From St. Nicholas Henry Livingston, 1808

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers 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! Dunder and Blixem! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just 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 of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"