‘Twas The Night Before (A tale of survival)
Posted on December 21, 2007
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
There was nothing to eat, for man or for mouse.
The stockings were worn and were somewhat threadbare,
No hope for presents or candy was there.
The children, asleep in their bed on the floor,
With bars on the windows and locks on the doors.
And mom at her job as a waitress in town,
Waited on customers, who all wore a frown.
When outside the door there arose such a clatter,
We hid in the closet, knowing not what’s the matter.
Had I locked all the doors? Had I left them undone?
Were the curtains left open to let in the sun?
What was it out there making noise in the snow?
We prayed and we prayed, ’cause we just didn’t know.
When finally to our wandering minds became clear,
We hid in the closet, shaking with fear.
I recognized voices and soon became sick.
I knew who was out there; it was our Uncle Nick!
Paroled from the prison, to our house he came,
He broke in the front door and called out my name.
“Now Jimmy and Susie if you’re here just tell me,
I’m here to find out if you’ve something to sell me.
On second thought, what you have I’m gonna take it,
And if it’s not worth anything I’m gon’ break it!”
Trashing the house he took aim at the dishes,
We didn’t have much, but Nick fulfilled his wishes.
But there was one thing that he’d not found so far,
It was there in the closet; my father’s guitar.
It was all that he’d left, when mom gave it she cried,
We remembered him by it since the day that he died.
We both held our breath hoping not to be found,
There always was trouble when Nick was around.
He was dressed all in leather from jacket to boot,
And his clothes were all roughly the color of soot.
What little we had he stuffed into a sack,
We hoped that he’d leave us and never come back.
His eyes were so evil; He’d all he could carry.
His face was unshaven, his voice, it was scary!
His cruel little mouth drawing hard on a stogie,
He yelled, “Where’s your father; send out the old fogey”.
It was then I decided it’s all I could take,
I figured I’d finally get rid of that snake!
I whispered to Susie, “Whatever you hear,
Just don’t make a sound and don’t come out of here!”
As I opened the door and saw his back was turned,
My stomach was hurting, my anger it burned!
I picked up the closest and heaviest thing near,
And swung it right at him, at my “Uncle dear”,
He spoke not a word, One swing had done it’s work,
I finally had rid our lives of the jerk.
Then hearing the sound of my mother’s old car,
I looked in my hands; there it was, the guitar!
As my mother walked into the house she just cried,
The bag, the guitar showed her why Nick had died,
As Susie came out we just knelt there and wept,
There was blood on the pillow where she had just slept.
My mom made a call, the policemen arrived,
She hugged us both tight, she was glad we survived.
She explained though the guitar she gave me was broken,
She was glad that it saved us, it was merely a token.
My dad was there with us, as we made our new start,
He always said “Christmas is what’s in your hearts”.
We knew we had each other, checking in the hotel,
“This may not be heaven, but God saved us from hell”
2 responses to “‘Twas The Night Before (A tale of survival)”
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I was just reading the story on CNN about "tent cities" coming up in once affluent suburbs, and people living in fear of being burglarized. Crime going up as foreclosures sky rocket.
Bumpy ride ahead.
Hello Gordon
Heartbreaking story-
I assume it happened for real.
You penned this excellent!
How much sadness been poured there?
In addition, the terror the children went through.
I cannot imagine living life like this with someone,
Who was terrible as your Uncle Nick was.
You have penned this really really well.
Thank you for sharing, it brought tears to my eyes.
Kind Regards,
Zuzanna