To all:
MARRY CHRISTMAS2010from the Buller Family
New web link this year:
Some of you know of my affection for The Night Before Christmas
Please read this tonight with your family and friends, the second on the list is my special request again this year, the 3rd on the list is for sailors and the 4th version is a bit more difficult “very technical” but some of mycolleagues you may appreciate it, please let me know if you like the technical one, The 5th one on the list is for Star Trek fans”Trekies”. New this year last one “WOMAN’S VIEW” version.
Please enjoy,
'Twas the Night before Christmas
or Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas
by
Major Henry Livingston Jr. (1748-1828)
(previously believed to be by Clement Clarke Moore)
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, 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 eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
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 his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"
Christmas 2004 AND NOW
GOOD FOR TODAY ALOS, WHO WOULD HAVE KNOWN THEN WHAT WE WOULD HAVE TODAY
Speical Request 2006
With the upcoming Holiday Season, I'd ask each and every one of you to
remember those that go into harms way to protect our great Country and our
way of life as Free American's. Thank you & God Bless.
TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF
PLASTER AND STONE.
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.
NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED
A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.
WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS
WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.
SOON ROUND THE WORLD,
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.
THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."
THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.
I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
This poem was written by a Marine. The following is his request. I think it is reasonable.....
PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can?
Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S. service men and women
for our being able to celebrate these festivities.Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit
of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed
themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.
ANOTHER ONE FOR SAILORS:
T'was the Night Before Christmas (for our sailors)
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived in a crowd, In a 40 man berthing, with shipmates so loud.
I had come down the exhaust stack with presents to give, And to see just who in this rack did live.
 I looked all about, a strange sight did I see, No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stockings were hung, just boot close at hand, On the bulkhead hung s of far distance land.
He had medals and badges and awards of all kind, And a sober thought came into my mind.
 For this place was different, it was so dark and dreary, I had found the house of a sailor, once I could see clearly.
The sailor lay sleeping, silent and alone, Curled up in his rack, dreaming of home.
 The face was so gentle, the berthing in such good order, Not how I d a United States Sailor.
 Was this the hero whom I saw on TV? Defending his country so we all could be free?
I realized the families that I've seen this night, Owed their lives to these sailors who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, the children would play, And grownups would celebrate a new Christmas Day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year, Because of the sailor, like the one lying here.
 I couldn't help but wonder how many lay alone, On a cold Christmas Eve on a sea, far from home.
 The very thought brought a tear to my eye, I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
 The sailor awakened and I heard a rough voice, "Santa, don't cry, for this life is my choice."  "Defend the seas this day, So others may rejoice."
 The sailor rolled over and drifted to sleep, I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
 I kept watch for hours so silent, so still, And we both shivered from the night's cold chill.
 I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night, This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
 Then the sailor rolled over and with a voice soft and pure, Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas Day, All is Secure!"
'Twas the Night Before Christmas
Written by a technical writer
'Twas the nocturnal segment of the diurnal period preceding the annual
Yuletide celebration, and throughout the place of residence, kinetic
activity was not in evidence among the possessors of this potential,
including that species of domestic rodent known as Mus musculus (mouse).
Hosiery was meticulously suspended from the forward edge of the wood
burning caloric apparatus, pursuant to our anticipatory pleasure
regarding an imminent visitation from an eccentric philanthropist among
whose folkloric appellations is the honorific title of St. Nicholas.
The prepubescent siblings, comfortably ensconced in their respective
accommodations of repose, were experiencing subconscious visual
hallucinations of variegated fruit confections moving rhythmically
through their cerebrums.
My conjugal partner and I, attired in our nocturnal head coverings,
were about to take slumberous advantage of the hibernal darkness
when upon the avenaceous exterior portion of the grounds there ascended such a
cacophony of dissonance
that I felt compelled to arise with alacrity from my place of repose for the
purpose of ascertaining the precise source thereof.
Hastening to the casement, I forthwith opened the barriers sealing this
fenestration,
noting thereupon that the lunar brilliance without,
reflected as it was on the surface of a recent crystalline precipitation,
might be said to rival that of the solar meridian itself
- thus permitting my incredulous optical sensory organs to behold a miniature
airborne runnered conveyance
drawn by eight diminutive specimens of the genus Rangifer,
piloted by a minuscule, aged chauffeur
so ebullient and nimble that it became instantly apparent to me that he
was indeed our anticipated caller.
With his ungulate motive power
traveling at what may possibly have been more vertiginous velocity than
patriotic alar predators, he vociferated loudly, expelled breath
musically through contracted labia, and addressed each of the octet by
his or her respective cognomen - "Now Dasher, now Dancer..." et al. -
guiding them to the uppermost exterior level of our abode, through which
structure I could readily distinguish the concatenations of each of the
32 cloven pedal extremities.
As I retracted my cranium from its erstwhile location, and was
performing a 180-degree pivot, our distinguished visitant achieved -
with utmost celerity and via a downward leap - entry by way of the smoke
passage. He was clad entirely in animal pelts soiled by the ebony
residue from oxidations of carboniferous fuels which had accumulated on
the walls thereof. His resemblance to a street vendor I attributed
largely to the plethora of assorted playthings which he bore dorsally in
a commodious cloth receptacle.
His orbs were scintillant with reflected luminosity, while his
submaxillary dermal indentations gave every evidence of engaging
amiability. The capillaries of his malar regions and nasal appurtenance
were engorged with blood which suffused the subcutaneous layers, the
former approximating the coloration of Albion's floral emblem, the
latter that of the Prunus avium, or sweet cherry. His amusing sub- and
supralabials resembled nothing so much as a common loop knot, and their
ambient hirsute facial adornment appeared like small, tabular and
columnar crystals of frozen water.
Clenched firmly between his incisors was a smoking piece whose grey
fumes, forming a tenuous ellipse about his occiput, were suggestive of a
decorative seasonal circlet of holly. His visage was wider than it was
high, and when he waxed audibly mirthful, his corpulent abdominal region
undulated in the manner of impectinated fruit syrup in a hemispherical
container. He was, in short, neither more nor less than an obese,
jocund, multigenarian gnome, the optical perception of whom rendered me
visibly frolicsome despite every effort to refrain from so being. By
rapidly lowering and then elevating one eyelid and rotating his head
slightly to one side, he indicated that trepidation on my part was
groundless.
Without utterance and with dispatch, he commenced filling the
aforementioned appended hosiery with various of the aforementioned
articles of merchandise extracted from his aforementioned previously
dorsally transported cloth receptacle. Upon completion of this task, he
executed an abrupt about-face, placed a single manual digit in lateral
juxtaposition to his olfactory organ, inclined his cranium forward in a
gesture of leave-taking, and forthwith effected his egress by
renegotiating (in reverse) the smoke passage. He then propelled himself
in a short vector onto his conveyance, directed a musical expulsion of
air through his contracted oral sphincter to the antlered quadrupeds of
burden, and proceeded to soar aloft in a movement hitherto observable
chiefly among the seed-bearing portions of a common weed. But I
overheard his parting exclamation, audible immediately prior to his
vehiculation beyond the limits of visibility: "Ecstatic Yuletide to the
planetary constituency, and to that self same assemblage, my sincerest
wishes for a salubriously beneficial and gratifyingly pleasurable period
between sunset and dawn."
Twas two days after Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was hurtin', even the mouse.
The toys were all broken, their batteries dead;
Santa passed out, with some ice on his head.
Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor,
While upstairs the family, continued to snore.
And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks, and jeans,
Went into the kitchen and started to clean.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a little white truck, with an oversized mirror.
The driver was smiling, so lively and grand,
The patch on his jacket said "CANADA POSTman."
With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox,
Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.
Bill after bill, after bill they still came,
Whistling and shouting, he called them by name.
"Now Zeller's, now Wal-Mart, now Old Navy and Sears,
Here's Visa, MasterCard, Home Sense and Pier's."
"To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall,
Now charge away, charge away, charge away all."
He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work;
He filled up the box, and turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his truck, and he drove down the road,
Driving much faster now, with just half a load.
Then I heard him exclaim, with great holiday cheer,
Enjoy what you got... You'll be paying all year!"
Another version
Twas the night Jesus came and all through the house, not a person
was praying, not one in the house . . .
The Bible was left on the shelf without care, for no one thought Jesus
would come there . . .
The children were dressing to crawl into bed, not once ever kneeling or
bowing their head . . .
And Mom in the rocking chair with babe on her lap, was watching the
Late
Show as I took a nap . . .
When out of the east there rose such a clatter, I sprang to my feet to
see what was the matter . . .
Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and
lifted the sash . . .
When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Angels proclaiming
that Jesus was here . . .
The light of His face made me cover my head, it was Jesus returning
just
like He'd said . . .
And though I possess world ly wisdom and wealth, I cried when I saw Him
in spite of myself . . .
In the Book of Life which he held in his hand, was written the name of
every saved man . . .
He spoke not a word as he searched for my name, when He said . .
." it's not here," my head hung in shame . . .
The people whose names had been written with love, He gathered to take
to his Father above . . .
With those who were ready He rose without sound, while all of the
others
were left standing around . . .
I fell to my knees but it was too late, I'd waited too long and thus
sealed my fate . . .
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight, Oh, if only I'd known
that this was the night . . .
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear the coming of Jesus is
now drawing near . . .
There's only one life and when comes the last c all, we'll find out that
the Bible was true after all . . .
(B) Basic (I) Instruction (B) Before (L) Leaving (E) Earth, Please
send
this to as many people as possible ...... JESUS LOVES YOU