It is an hour to midnight here in Japan. The kids have gone to sleep and I am soon to join them. A glass of milk and cookie are waiting for Santa; a carrot for Rudolph, too. We shall see if the big guy comes. I know I need to get to bed soon—he won't visit if someone is up.

Just a few Steemit rambles and reflections before I settle my brain for a long winter's nap. Or a handful of hours of one, at any rate.

I read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas to my oldest. He is too young to understand, but he listened carefully and grasped a few points, judging from all his questions afterwards. It may be a silly tradition, but my mom often read the poem to us when me and my brothers were kids, and I want to carry on the tradition. The story is very dated and doesn't reflect our modern image of Santa, which I understand is highly influenced by Coca-cola's ads, but it is still quite charming.

Haven't read it? Here you go!

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A Visit from St. Nicholas
by Clement Clarke Moore

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney 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 danc'd in their heads,
And Mama in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap—

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter,
Away to the window I 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 mid-day to objects below;
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight 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 call'd 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 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,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound:

He was dress'd all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnish'd with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys was flung on his back,
And he look'd 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 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
That shook when he laugh'd, like a bowl full of jelly:

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laugh'd when I saw him in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And fill'd all the stockings; then turn'd with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprung to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle:
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night".

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"Is the real Santa really tiny?" my son asked.

Funny how with all the older words and phrasing, that is what he focuses on and picks out. I told him Santa is magical and can appear both small and big, depending on what the situation requires.

He asked me a few dozen more questions, but then I mentioned Santa wouldn't come if he was still awake; almost instantly he closed his eyes and turned over, and was asleep quickly. Impressive. I can fall asleep quickly (I may or may not have fallen asleep while writing this), but I think he has me beat!

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Hmm... well I had more rambles and reflections in mind before I started writing this, but they are gone now. Oh well. At any rate, I want to wish all of you a Merry Christmas. Hope you all have a wonderful one!

❦

	David LaSpina is an American photographer lost in Japan, trying to capture the beauty of this country one photo at a time. More?