With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore…

The Christmas gifts I’ve enjoyed giving the most are the ones I’ve made.  Since I got my workshop set up in the garage this past year, I had hoped to enjoy some of that creative activity leading up to Christmas.  Unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances didn’t leave any time for woodworking, but this morning I tried to exercise some creativity of a different sort.  Haven’t written much poetry since elementary school, so I thought I’d borrow from someone else…

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in the CTICU on 5 East,

A few creatures were stirring, because they never cease;

The fluids were hung by the bedsides with care,

In hopes that all would remain peaceful there;

The children, not “nestled” but comfortable yet,

Saw lots more than sugar-plums thanks to the meds;

Dr. Ryan in his coat, Dr. Andy in clogs,

Kept quiet watch as they checked patient logs;

Far up on the roof there arose quite a clatter,

But they wouldn’t have heard what was the matter.

Nurse Susan at her station would not have noticed,

Her attention on Rudy was lovingly focused.

 

The flat helipad with its lights flashing on top,

Made landing much easier than most other stops,

The touchdown was simple, but the rest was quite hard,

For patients and visitors with no proxy card,

But this one was different and he knew some tricks,

The card readers and elevators were no match for St. Nick.

He stuffed his sack fuller than he ever had yet,

For scores below worried that he might forget;

 

To the 5th Floor through the stairwell he came with a bound,

Right through the alarmed door with nary a sound.

Yes, dressed all in fur from his head to his foot,

But he cleaned himself up because they don’t allow soot.

Into the PICU he walked without ringing,

Quietly as the pumps and the vents did their singing.

His eyes kept on twinkling; his dimples still merry,

But tender concern showed behind that nose like a cherry.

While the nurses’ attention was never averted,

Somehow he slipped into each room unobserved,

 

He’d given up the pipe as he’s now much the wiser,

And at each door he carefully lathered with the sanitizer.

The belly like jelly still shook only slightly,

As he kept his voice quiet and laughed only lightly;

That wink of his eye and the twist of his head,

Assured the small patients they had nothing to dread;

He spoke soothing words along with his work,

Being careful to turn with nary a jerk,

After carefully laying what he’d brought on the bed,

He’d give a small whisper and a pat on the head;

Without any rush he went door to door,

Making sure he missed no one on the entire floor;

 

He returned to his sleigh and offered a prayer,

That these little ones wouldn’t be much longer in there,

As he prepared to alight from this special stop,

The children were assured he hadn’t forgot.

So he loudly exclaimed as he drove up into the air,

“Be home next Christmas, and I’ll see you there.”

7 thoughts on “With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore…

  1. Just about to tuck my kids in for the night and was touched by your version of the famous poem, brought a year to my eye.

    Sweet dream, we are still parying for you and hope that you have a wonderful Christmas.

    Love, hugs amd kisses from all of us to all of you!

  2. Wow. Your creativity is still as bright as ever!

    I’ve got a feeling this post will get printed out and end up in the staff lounge for years to come…

    Blessings from Oz,

    Dave

  3. Merry Christmas, Rudy and family! The Lord woke me up to pray for you this Christmas morning. Although I have never “submitted a comment” before, I have been one of your prayer partners since you entered this world. My husband, Spencer, and I live in Asheville, NC, and Spencer’s Aunt Seeme Thomas, in Lawrence, Kansas, was forwarding your prayer requests to me, but I now receive them directly. I, too, forward them on to prayer warriors all over the country. I am asking the Lord to continue His touch on your tiny body, to give your doctors and nurses His wisdom, and to give His comfort to your parents and siblings. I pray God’s Peace would permeate your room and all who enter would know that Jesus is there. May all of you experience His Presence as you celebrate His birth. Have a Blessed Christmas day. Patti Elrod

  4. The Stevenson family wishes you all a Merry Christmas and continues to believe that the fluid disappears from Rudy’s lungs. So glad you were able to spend Christmas together and what a great gift for Olivia and Max to hold little Rudy. One day I will get this gift too. Love you all! Love, Cousin Dianna and entire Stevenson family.

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