Twas the night before Christmas

and all through St. Joes.

The patients were sleeping

with hall lights aglow.

 

Medication were given

and rounds were all done.

All patients were counted

each and every one.

 

Patients were all snuggled

with clean sheets on their beds.

While visions of old days

danced in their heads.

 

When what to our wondering

eyes should appear.

But an angel descending

to release each one’s fears.

 

In the twinkling of an eye

she started to soar

while singing each name

visiting door after door.

 

Now Wilson and Shuman

and Berdych and Row.

And Whistler and Connor

and on and on she’d go

 

From room 501

and clear down the hall.

Her wings pitter-pattered

as she visited them all.

 

Then she rounded our desk

where no one could speak.

Each one of us frozen

our legs limb and weak.

 

She blew us fond kisses

and spoke kindly to all.

For caring for patients

No matter the call.

 

Then suddenly we watched her

as she traveled on down.

With shimmers of glory,

that lightened her gown.

 

Then as we went forward

doing rounds for the day,

For some reason, her words

continued to replay.

 

“The Lord wants to thank you

for all that you do.

As He wishes Merry Christmas

to each one of You!”

 

by Del Bates