Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Place, no needles were clicking, not even a trace. The mittens were hung by the front desk with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The customers were nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of yarn cakes danced in their heads. With Mom in her sweater and me in my shawl, we had just settled down for a long winter's sprawl.
When out on the sidewalk there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter. Away to the door I flew like a flash, brushed aside the scarves and put aside my stash. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature UPS Truck , and eight tiny reindeer, with a little old driver so lively and quick I knew in a moment, it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Quicksliver his reindeers they came, and he whistled and shouted and called them by name. Now Katia! Now Sirdar! Now Ella and Rae! On Araucania, on Noro, on Debbie and Bliss! To the top of the yarn swift , to the top of the shelf, now dash away, dash away, dash away all!
Into a parking spot the reindeers they flew, with a UPS Truck full of yarns and St. Nicholas, too. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his routines, and filled all the shelves with gorgeous new skeins. Then he turned with a jerk, laying his hook aside his nose, and giving a nod, out the door he goes. He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a twitch, and away they all drove, like the speed of a dropped stitch. But I heard him exclaim as he drove off in a flash, Merry Christmas to all and to all Good Stash!
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