This is a Christmas story from a very long time ago, a Santa story that none of us know.

Its account was hidden high and deep on a shelf,

And just recently discovered by a curious elf.

The sleigh was ready, the reindeer were all set,

Santa’s pre-Christmas goals had all been met.

The journey began on a clear, cold wintry night,

Yet, each reindeer knew something was not right.

Santa was lighter. Maybe he had lost some weight,

It was easy to see he had a different gait.

Normally, bringing the gifts doesn’t require a big plan,

But this year Santa’s mishaps quickly began.

At one house, he nearly rolled off the roof,

Stopped only by coming to rest against a reindeer hoof.

A little later, he slipped and fell from the sleigh,

Unable to right himself, he bumped into a Christmas display.

Most chimneys were filthy – ash soon covered his suit,

And snow from high drifts filled up each boot.

What happened next surely made him red in the face,

The chimney he went down was a backyard fireplace.

Santa’s awkwardness often caused the night silence to be broken,

But the neighborhoods slept, no one was woken.

Every delivery was becoming a trying event,

By sheer luck no toys were cracked, chipped or bent.

When Santa finally reached the bottom of his sack,

He said to his team, “We’re done, time to head back.”

Once at home, something happened that made the reindeer pause,

Out came a pillow, off came the beard – “Santa” was really Mrs. Claus.

Yes, it was Mrs. Claus who had worn the suit of red,

Because Santa, you see, was at home sick in bed.

After the sleigh was cleaned and the reindeer were stabled,

Mrs. Claus limped to the house nearly disabled.

She was quite sleepy, but just awake enough to hear,

The words of her husband who said, “Thank you, dear.”

Only Santa Claus knew the challenges his wife had braved,

Now we all know, because of Mrs. Claus, Christmas had been saved.

Merry Christmas