- ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house;
- No hardware was stirring, not even the mouse;
- The stockings were hung by the iMac with care,
- In hopes that blank CDs would soon be found there;
- The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
- While visions of GIFs danced in their heads;
- And mamma with her web layout, and me with the scripts;
- Had just settled down for a long night of creative bliss,
- When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
- I hit option-S before seeing what was the matter.
- Away from my Mac I flew like a flash,
- Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
- The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow;
- With the luster of my new iBook y’know,
- When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
- But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
- Like a Mac 512 driver, so compact and quick,
- I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
- More rapid than FireWire his coursers they came,
- And he clicked, and shouted, and called them by name;
- “Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
- On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONNER and BLITZEN!
- To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
- Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
- Like the files that are uploaded to the Net on the fly,
- When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
- So up to the housetop the coursers they flew,
- With the sleigh full of Mac goodies, and St. Nicholas too.
- And in a screen redraw, I heard on the roof
- The prancing and clicking of each little hoof.
- As I put down my tablet, and was turning around,
- Through the front door St. Nicholas came with a bound.
- He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toes,
- And his clothes were all covered with dust and snow;
- A bundle of Mac software he had flung on his back,
- And he looked like a consultant just opening his pack.
- His TiBook – how it glowed! the Apple how merry!
- His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
- How the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
- Like the iMac sitting on my desk y’know
- 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, like buttons on the OS X desktop place.
- He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
- And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
- A boot of his TiBook and a spin of the hard drive,
- Reminded me that Santa had arrived;
- 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 and giving a nod,
- He went out the door, with listening to his iPod;
- He zipped to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
- And away they all flew like the down of many pixels.
- But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
- “HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!”
Keywords: #christmas
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