T'was the Night Before Christmas
T’was the last meeting before Christmas, when through the clubhouse,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the podium with care,
In hopes that Paul Rukala soon would be there;
The members were nestled all snug drinking beer,
And talk of football, as always, seemed to appear;
And Andrew in his golf clothes, and I in my chair,
Ready for the meeting, our group would be Fair.
They built Better Friendships as they all hung out,
Like minded in service, there was surely no doubt;
When out on the golf course there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their seats to see what was the matter;
Away to the window, they flew like a flash,
Damian tripped President in their mad dash;
When what to Jack’s wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer;
With a little old driver, so lively and spruce,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Bruce;
More rapid than race horses his reindeer they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Tommy! now, Randy! now, Tanya and Stacey!
On, Mary! on, Andrew! on, Tony! and Kati!
To the top of the deck! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As Jack drew in his head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Bruce came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, and to Aaron he looked,
“Put this in the newsletter or you will be cooked”.
A bundle of bags he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! You knew he spoke Truth,
His cheeks were like roses, from a sip of vermouth;
He spoke not a word, which is hard to believe,
Filled all their stockings, of course, it was Christmas Eve,
He hoped it was Beneficial to All Concerned,
With just a slight nod, up the chimney he returned;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
Away they all flew like shot out of a missile,
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove on due west,
"Goodwill to all, and to all
live by the 4 Way Test.”
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