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'Twas
the night before Christmas, |
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when
all through the abode |
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Only
one creature was stirring, |
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and she
was cleaning the commode. |
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The
children were finally sleeping |
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all
snug in their beds, |
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while
Visions of Nintendo and |
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Barbie
flipped through their heads. |
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The dad
was snoring |
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in
front of the TV, |
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With a half-constructed bicycle |
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propped on his knee. |
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So only Mom heard the
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reindeer hooves clatter, |
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Which made her sigh, |
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"Now what is the matter?" |
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With the toilet bowl brush |
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still clutched in her hand, |
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She descended the stairs |
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and saw the old man. |
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He was covered with ashes
and soot, |
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which fell with a shrug, |
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"Oh, great," muttered
Mom, |
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"now I have to clean the
rug." |
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"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa,
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"I'm glad you're awake, |
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your gift was especially
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difficult to make." |
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but all I want is time
alone." |
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"Exactly!" he chuckled, |
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"So, I've made you a
clone." |
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"A clone?" she muttered,
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"What good is that?" |
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"Run along, Santa,
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I've no time for chit
chat." |
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Then out walked the clone
- |
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The Mother's twin; |
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Same hair, same eyes,
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same double chin. |
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"She'll cook, she'll dust, |
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she'll mop every mess. |
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You'll relax, take it easy, |
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watch The Young and The Restless." |
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"Fantastic!" the Mom cheered. |
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"My dream has come true!" |
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"I'll shop, I'll read, |
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I'll sleep a whole night through!" |
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From the room above, |
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the youngest did fret. |
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"Mommy? Come quickly, |
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I'm scared and I'm wet." |
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The clone replied, |
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"I'm coming, sweetheart." |
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"Hey," the Mom smiled, |
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"she sure knows her part." |
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The clone changed the small one |
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and hummed her a tune, |
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as she bundled the child |
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in a blanket cocoon. |
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"You're the best mommy ever. |
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I really love you." |
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The clone smiled and sighed, |
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"And I love you, too." |
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The Mom frowned and said, |
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"Sorry, Santa, it's no deal. |
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That's my child's love |
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she is trying to steal." |
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Smiling wisely, Santa said, |
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"To me it is clear, |
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Only one loving Mother |
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is needed here." |
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The Mom kissed her child |
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and tucked her in bed. |
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"Thank you, Santa, |
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for clearing my head. |
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I sometimes forget, |
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it won't be very long, |
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when they'll be too old |
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for my cradle and song." |
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The clock on the mantle |
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began to chime. |
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Santa whispered to the clone, |
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"It works every time." |
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With the clone by his side, |
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Santa said, "Good night. |
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Merry Christmas, dear Mom, |
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you will be all right." |
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By . . .
Karen Spiegler
(Originally published in
December 1993 issue of Manic
Moms)
One of the greatest gifts God
can give is our children -
just as God's greatest Gift came as a child.
During these crazy weeks before Christmas, as you shop and bake and clean and
decorate and mail cards. . . think of this as a reminder to take a moment for
extra hugs and kisses and make sure your children know how much you love them.
That's what it's all about anyway, right?
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DEDICATED TO
ALL MOMS, THE WORLD OVER |
Merry Christmas
! |