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