• On a snowy day deep in December,
    I sat beside the fire, painting a face.
    Upon the china doll. I painted a trace,
    Of a young girl smiling. Then I remembered,
    As I stared into the embers,
    That happiness cannot be replaced.

    It gives me a warm feeling on the inside,
    To know that one child on the outside,
    Looked in their stocking, and out loud cried
    With a voice that hid no joy,
    Happy that she got that toy,
    She asked of the man whom I was employed.

    Nothing can ever defeat,
    That glorious feeling of goodwill.
    And down my spine it sent a chill,
    Of good that can’t retreat,
    From sending a child a treat,
    In that stocking, that he filled.

    He flies by night through the sky,
    Pulling a sleigh of reindeer that fly,
    “Ho Ho Ho!” through night he cries,
    Receiving none but cookies and milk,
    Giving presents and a white blanket of silk,
    From America, to Asia, to the land of the kilt.

    Mr. Clause, my popular superior,
    Who oversees me as I work in his shop.
    One-hundred percent productivity, hardly any flop.
    And he’s not the man that makes you feel inferior.
    But has a way to brighten your interior.

    All over the world children wait,
    Leaving cookies and milk as bait,
    For the man with the job of fate.
    Happiness and goodwill on this holiday,
    Makes it important to say,
    Happy Holidays! Forever on this day.