The santa claus is coming to you

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the town, not a creature was stirring, not even a clown. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that Santa Claus soon would be there. Little Timmy was nestled all snug in his bed, while visions of sugarplums danced in his head.

But Timmy wasn't just dreaming of sugarplums, oh no. He was dreaming of the jolly man in red, the one with the snowy white beard and the hat on his head. Santa Claus was coming to town, and Timmy could hardly contain his excitement.

As the clock struck midnight, there arose such a clatter, Timmy sprang from his bed to see what was the matter. To the window, he 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 luster of midday to objects below.

And what to Timmy's wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer! With a little old driver so lively and quick, Timmy 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 housetop, the coursers they flew, with a sleigh full of toys and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, Timmy heard on the roof, the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As he drew in his head 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 on his chin was as white as the snow.

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 Timmy heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

Timmy's heart swelled with joy as he watched Santa Claus disappear into the night. The magic of Christmas was alive and well, and Timmy drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face, knowing that Santa had come to town just for him. The magic of Christmas, after all, was the greatest gift of all.

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