Christmas Musings

It’s Christmastime again, oh dear, the snow has covered all.
Though I should write, my mind is blank, so at this point I’ll stall.
The sky is blue, the snow is white, and Santa’s suit is red.
I know my quips are less than fun, I ask your pardon instead.

If only I had been so blessed with power over words,
My letter would have been complete, then I might watch the birds.
I wish I knew a clever story or witty anecdote,
But alas, I know of no such thing, I’ve doomed this tragic note.

But of course! Why, it’s so obvious! I know just what to do!
I’ll share with you a tatty old tale (I’ll spare no details too).
Although my hand knows not of that exquisite art of expression,
I’ll tell this story anyway, to alleviate further digression:

Our story begins, if I may borrow, with five most fateful words,
“‘Twas the night before Christmas,” a creature was stirring, though he went on unheard!
Now, I know it’s been said that all was quiet, even mice had taken to rest,
But this I can tell you, not all were asleep, for this mouse like Christmas best.

His name was Andrew and he was all white, a fact that poor Andrew hated,
For this was a fact that all Andrew’s friends made fun of and mocked, bluntly stated.
This young little mouse had snuck from his house, and went on an evening ‘stroll.’
The evening it was, a stroll it was not, for with purpose did he leave his hole.

“I’m such a disaster! No one is my friend,” our sad white friend cried out,
“But now I have a perfect plan, then I’m ‘in’ forever, no doubt!
If I can just get Mousie Claus to come into our home,
I know they’ll cheer and scream, ‘Well done,” then I’ll never be alone!”

What’s that you say? You don’t believe? Now I need to defend!
Mousie Claus is just as real as me! He’s Santa’s little friend!
Let me just ask one simple thing, since my good friend you mock,
How do you think those little holes get into Santa’s socks?

He travels ‘round on Christmas Eve, with Santa, in his sleigh,
Giving gifts to all the good little mice, they too need toys to play.
I will no longer press the point, but one final word I give:
Mousie Claus is real, ask any young mouse, and they’ll tell you ‘he lives.’

So! Andrew crept, so quietly, along the hallway wall,
Until he reached the sitting room, where Mousie Claus would call.
He scurried behind the chair and then, with grace he took a leap,
Right at the glowing Christmas tree, he never made a peep.


He landed on a branch that hung not far above the floor,
Then up he went the Christmas trunk, very eager to explore.
As he went past each ornament, he always gave due heed,
To the ballet girl, he gave a bow; A salute to the Soldier on his steed.

Eventually he found a spot where he could sit and spy,
The fireplace was in plain sight, not a thing would pass his eye.
“Mousie Claus would have to come through here, if he should leave his gifts,
And then I can jump out at him, he’ll have to grant my wish!”

And so Andrew waited for quite some time, thinking how Mousie Claus might look,
He thought of a big brown mouse standing there, with the ‘good’ and ‘bad’ in his book.
He pictured him with a deep, booming voice, with a hat of white and red,
With his bag of presents looped ‘round his tail, and belly that was clearly well fed.

The little mouse was deep in thought, when something brought him back,
He heard a noise, and so he looked, but through the window- pitch black.
He heard it again up on the roof, though gentle, very clear,
“This must be it!” our Andrew cried, “It’s him and his reindeer!”

Andrew shook high in that tree, his thrill was hardly tamed.
He restlessly, and with no blinks, looked at the room, and aimed.
Then with a shudder and one soft moan, a man came tumbling in!
He slowly stood, then dusted off the soot all over his skin.

He wore all red, except his boots, which were quite thick and black,
His great big belly held fast in place, by a belt, yet there was no slack.
His beard was white, his nose was cherry, his presence made Andrew pause,
For he knew now without a doubt this must be Santa Claus.

He peered around and took great care, until he saw a plate.
Then swiftly he did cross the room, and then at once he ate.
He took one bite of one big cookie, then followed with a drink,
And after he swallowed he reached in his coat, pulled out a mouse and winked!

Now Andrew could not believe what he’d seen, in fact he had to look twice!
He saw a mouse with a fluffy red cap, it seemed it was made just for mice!
And out of the hat stuck two big pink ears, for holes had been cut so they’d fit.
Andrew then thought, “This has to be him, Mousie Claus has now come! This is it!”

But what was amazing, in Andrew’s small mind, was how Mousie Claus seemed so bright,
For his fur wasn’t brown, and no shades of black, but instead it was snow-colored; white!
When Andrew saw this, he immediately gasped, for he’d never seen one look like that,
And then with a whisper he quietly said, “Mousie Claus looks like me…in a hat!”

Mousie Claus then sneezed, followed by a small shudder, then he grabbed a cookie and bit.
His little mouse teeth took tiny small bites, but it was gone lickety-split!
Then Santa Claus poured a small bit of milk, so Mousie Claus could sip,
Then Mousie Claus let out one soft burp, and Santa bit his lip.
Santa Claus stood, now laughing, and said, “We ought to do our job!”
Then Mousie Claus looked, with a twinkle in his eye, and up and down his head bobbed.
Santa moved away and picked up his sack, and gifts he started to spread,
While Mousie hopped off the table where he stood, landing softly on his head.

While Santa kept working, taking breaks for bites, Mousie dragged his Christmas sack,
All down the hall toward the small mouse house, where Andrew’s Family was at.
Now Andrew had so quietly snuck back down the Christmas tree,
So down the hall in hot pursuit of Mousie Claus was he.

But to his horror, with mouth open wide, he saw an unwelcome face.
It was the cat, her name Lily Belle, and she had come for the chase.
Now Mousie Claus hadn’t seen Lily Belle, for on the sill she sat,
And he may not have been here today if Andrew hadn’t screamed out, “CAT!”

Then Lily Belle pounced, heading straight for mouse, but Mousie Claus started to sprint,
Back down the hall, toward the fire, with Lily Belle’s eyes in a squint.
She quickly gave chase, sliding ‘round the corner and in the sitting room,
She spotted Mousie Claus climbing up the tree; her intent was to consume.

She stalked all ‘round the Christmas tree, her claws were poised to lash,
When Andrew had a sudden idea, to Santa he would dash!
But where had he gone? He was just here, how could he get away!
But Andrew noticed the tall milk glass, was missing from the fray.

Andrew sped with all his might, in through the kitchen doors,
To find the big round jolly elf engaged in household chores!
He sped across the floor, and scurried up his leg,
And through his beard, up to his face, and he began to beg.

Now Santa was confused at first, not sure what he was seeing,
For this was not his friend Mousie Claus, but some other similar being.
But that old man could see the fear inside that small mouse’s eyes.
He seemed to know the meaning of his little desperate cries.

With long, great strides, the big man stepped into the sitting room,
And in mid-air he caught that cat, before Mousie Claus’ doom.
The cat was placed into the kitchen; the door was then shut tight,
And Andrew was placed on the floor, to meet his friend in white.

Mousie Claus came down from that tall tree, with thankful, twinkling eyes
And he came close to Andrew, and then he said, “I’m alive!”
Andrew flashed a toothy smile, then Mousie asked him this,
“What is your name, my dear sweet boy? I’m sure you’re on my list!”

Then with a nervous whisper, Andrew answered very slowly,
“My name is Andrew, and I’m white, and I am very lonely.
My friends and family think I’m odd, and they won’t treat me nice.
Oh won’t you bring me a new coat, I think brown would suffice!”
Then with a chuckle, Mousie shook his head, then he responded thus,
“You’re white, and you will always be, there’s nothing to discuss.
Embrace who you are, that what I did, and look at me today,
Have faith in yourself, and who you are, then all your friends will play.”

“Andrew you have saved me, but that’s not all you have done,
You’ve saved Christmas for all mousie-kind, and you are only one!
Surely this act alone is enough, to make your friends turn green,
So what is there to worry about, you shouldn’t make a scene!”

But Andrew looked down at the ground and he made one more plea,
“No one saw what happened here, they won’t even believe.”
But with that twinkle in his eye, Mousie Claus removed his hat,
And then he said, “This hat will tell, you saved me from the cat.”

With that he gave a final wink, Santa set down his cup,
And with a finger on his nose, Andrew watched them both go up.
Then Andrew ran to see the sleigh go flying through the night,
And then he heard a soft little voice, then laughter jolly and bright.

The little small voice had certainly come from Mousie once maybe twice,
His message was short, was simple and clear:
“Merry Christmas to all and to all the good mice!