Asleep in my warm winter bed, I dreamed of an ACLU Christmas. In my dream the American Civil Liberties Union had opened an office in Bethlehem, PA, and immediately sued the town, demanding it change its name. And then, in my dream, on Christmas Eve the ACLU gathered to stamp out any show of the vile and hated Christmas. And were shown why they will never win.
‘Twas the night before the winter holiday,
And all through the town,
Vile creatures had gathered,
Demeanor afrown.
For earlier that day
An email arrived,
That told of a family
Depraved and deprived.
These people, it said,
Had the gall to declare,
They would hang up their stockings
By the chimney with care.
“We cannot permit,”
The ACLU cried,
“This unseemly act
Of bravado and pride!
“For where will it end
If we sanction such acts?
The fat man is dead,
The facts are the facts!”
“And so is the child!”
Yelled a voice from the rear,
“He never was born,
He never was here!”
So crying they ran
Through the streets of the town,
The family to find,
The threat to put down.
And find them they did,
In the poorest of shacks,
On the mean side of town,
And hard by the tracks.
On the front door there hung
A moth-eaten wreath,
The light from the window
Showed the snow underneath.
And peering inside
The vile creatures saw,
A sight that caused trembling
And quaking with awe.
For there round a table
Sat a fat man in red,
And a saintly young woman
Kissing her baby’s head.
Surrounding the tableau
Was a soft golden glow,
That lighted the window
And lighted the snow.
As the vile creatures stood there
They heard voices sing,
From inside the shack
They heard the word King.
The baby then smiled
And the fat man did grin,
And legions of angels
Filled the spaces within.
The CLU members
All groaned with despair,
And looked at the sky
And tore out their hair.
“We never shall win,”
They whispered in dread,
“We shall not prevail,
No matter what’s said.”
They turned on their heels
And slunk slowly away,
While far in the distance
Came the sound of a sleigh.
The door of the shack
Then opened quite wide,
And the fat man in red
Stepped quickly outside.
“Good night, little fella,”
He said with a grin,
He hopped to the sleigh,
And when he was in,
He turned to the crowd
That was slinking away,
“Do you know who that is?
Do you know what’s today?”
And with that he was off,
His night rounds to make,
While inside the shack
The infant did wake.
“Who were those men?”
The boy Jesus said,
“And sour-faced wenches
Who wanted me dead?
“And not only me,
But the fat man in red!
Who are these people
Who want us both dead?”
His mother then smiled
And with wave of her hand,
An archangel knelt
And explained the vile band.
“To some they’re the grinch,”
He said, “Real witches brew,
To others they’re simply
The ACLU.”
“Rest easy,” mom smiled,
“Rest east my son,
They never will win,
They could never have won.
“For thine is the kingdom,
Thy father says so,”
And from off in the distance
Came a hearty Ho Ho.
MERRY CHRISTMAS