Margaret Kollmer

Rookie - 9 Points (South Africa)

A Genealogist's Christmas - Poem by Margaret Kollmer

‘Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring – not even my spouse.
The dining room table with clutter was spread
With pedigree charts and with letters which said:

‘Too bad about the data for which you wrote –
it sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat.’
Stacks of old copies of Wills and such
Were proof that my work had become too much.

Our children were nestled, all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And I at my table felt ready to drop
From work on my album with photos to crop.

Christmas was here and such was my lot
With presents and goodies and toys I’d forgot.
Had I not been busy with grandparents’ Wills
I’d not have forgotten to shop for such thrills

While others bought gifts to bring Christmas cheers
I’d been researching old birth dates and years.
While I was thus musing about my sad plight
A strange noise on the lawn gave me a big fright.

Away to the window, I flew in a flash
Tore open the drapes and yanked up the sash.
When what with my wondering eyes should appear
But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.

Up to the house-top the reindeer they flew
With a sleigh-full of toys and ‘ol Santa Clause too.
And then, in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.

As I drew in my head, it bumped on the sash
Down the cold chimney fell Santa, cr-rash!
Dear Santa had come from the roof in a wreck
And tracked soot on the carpet (I could wring his short neck!)

Spotting my face, good 'ol Santa could see
I had no Christmas spirit you’d have to agree.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings (I felt such a jerk)

Here was Santa who’d brought us such gladness and joy
When I’d been too busy for even one toy.
He spied my research: on the table was spread
‘A genealogist! ’ he cried, and my face went all red.

‘Tonight I’ve met many like you, ’ Santa grinned
As he pulled from his sack a large book he had penned.
My gift was amusing, the cover it read:
‘Genealogy Lines, ’ for which I have plead.
'I know what it’s like, the genealogy bug ’
He said as he gave me a great Santa hug.
‘While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole library! '

'A special treat I am thus able to bring
To genealogy folk who can’t find a thing.
Now all of you go to your bed for a rest
I’ll clean up the house from this genealogy mess.’

As I climbed up the stairs full of gladness and glee
I looked back at Santa who’d brought much to me.
While settling in bed, I heard Santa whistle
To his team which then rose like the down of a thistle.
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight:
‘Family history is fun! Merry Christmas! Goodnight! ’

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, March 30, 2008

Poem Edited: Thursday, November 25, 2010

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