Posted on 2017-12-05 in Blog
Last year, we wrote the 12 Days of Christmas, Canadian Self-Storage Style. Strangely, it didn’t become an international hit, but people told us it gave them a laugh, so we’re back at it this year with “The Night Before Christmas, Canadian Self-Storage Style”. Check it out:
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the storage yard,
Not a creature was stirring, not even the guard.
The boxes were organized in the unit with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
My wife in her infinity scarf, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When outside the storage unit there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my car to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Tore open the unit and made a noise, so brash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and either tiny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I 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, Donner 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 house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
In the door 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.
An empty bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked very somber, 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 of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
The shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And he said to me, “Please sir, I need a little help!
You see, I forgot to rent a storage unit this year,
And all of the children, found their presents, I fear,
So I wonder if I could trade you a lovely prize,
And preserve the magic of a Christmas surprise.”
I spoke not a word, but went straight to work,
And filled his whole sack, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, in the sleigh St. Nick rose!
He waved to me, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him explain, ‘ere he drove out of sigh,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
Cheesy? Yes, we agree. But, we’re still a great elf storage facility (ha!) and we want your business.
If you have questions, call us (905-854-1008), email us (firstname.lastname@example.org) or visit us at 9200 Twiss Rd, Milton, Ontario. Our website, www.storagesolutionsontario.com, is a great place to check out all of our features as well.
Your friend in self-storage,