The children had finally been forced to their beds
by threats of “no Santa” hanging over their heads.
But Mama had baking and presents to wrap,
so she took a deep breath and poured a nightcap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, Mama thought of the neighborhood teens, little bastards, who last night had rearranged all of her reindeer to create vulgar scenes with the sheep from the manger.

But the moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave Mama a glimpse of a far different show;
for what to her poor sleepy eyes should appear
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer,
with a little old driver, so lively and quick,
Mama said to herself, “This must be a trick!”

For the voice that she heard calling each reindeer’s name
and her own nagging voice sounded so much the same!
“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! What did I say?
On, Comet! On, Cupid! Or, no one gets hay!
To the top of the porch, I’m counting to three,
Now dash away, dash away, listen to me!”

Like children that threatened with vegetables fly,
with uncanny speed from a motherly eye,
up to the housetop the reindeer they flew,
with a sleigh full of toys – and St. Nicholas, too.
And then, in a twinkling, Mama heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

Mama turned toward the fireplace and what did she see?
There stood St. Nicki. “Hey, she looks just like me!”
She was dressed all in fur from her head to her foot,
and her clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys she had flung on her back.,
and she looked like she also had spare clothes and snacks.
Her eyes, tired and bloodshot! Her hands, rough and worn!
Her cheeks, red and wind burned. Her jacket was torn.
But St. Nicki was smiling in spite of her state.
She had twenty-four hours, and she’s never been late.

She helped herself to some coffee and a cookie or two.
Took a quick look around – so much to do!

She finished the baking and even cleaned up,
wrapped all the presents and assembled the stuff.
Mama just watched the whole scene unfold
and laughed to herself at the lies she’d been told.

St. Nick is St. Nicki!
We’ve all got it wrong!
Around the world in a day?
Of course Santa’s a Mom!

Then, with one last look at the holiday scene
St. Nicki returned to her eight reindeer team.
But Mama heard her exclaim as she drove out of sight,
“Merry Christmas to Moms, and to Moms a good night!”

When she’s not playing Santa, Kelli blogs as Mama Zen at The Zen of Motherhood.