A Delivery from St. Mike
BY Sally McCaffrey
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the kitchen
Not a creature was stirring, not even our Egan;
The dishes were piled up high in the sink,
With the hopes that St. Ruthie would soon close the link.
Kaitlyn was setting up our jobs for the day
While Linda decided which bills, she should pay.
And James in his chef hat and Marisha in her cap,
Had just prepped the food for our mid-day attack.
When out on the runway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my office to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the back door and I gasped!
The moon beams that lay on the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When I saw something that I only dreamed of,
It was a cargo plane from Ukraine called the Antonov.
While I thought it was Santa or maybe a mouse
Another loud noise came from the front of the house,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Mike!
More rapid than eagles his workers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Kaitlyn! now, Sally! now Angel and Bonnie!
On, Abdoulaye on, Noah! on, Mary and Shelby!
To the window’s, To the wall…..!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane flew,
Off went Sparky out of the parking lot too!
Off to deliver our customers some pie
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So off to the offices the workers they flew
With Sparky full of sandwiches and wraps too—
And then, in a twinkling, she saw in the mirror
The red lights flashing and drawing nearer!
As she drew in her head, and was turning to see,
Down the street came St. Mike and just missed a tree!
“Hey Kait, you forgot the garnish”, he yelled and then ran
She grasped the greens but backed into the van. ☹
St. Mike got out of the reefer with a bound.
He was dressed in kitchen whites, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with sauces and smot;
A bundle of parsley he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples you could trace!
Until he saw the dent in the van and the look on her face.
The damage was minimal so he sent her on her way
So we wouldn’t be late for our deliveries today!
He wasn’t that chubby, or plump or even jolly,
And I laughed when I saw him, all covered in holly;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled all the boxes with food; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, out the front door he rose;
He sprang out to his car, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
A Delivery from St. Mike