'Twas the night before Christmas br When all through the land br Women who have baked and br Packaged and planned br Await the morrow, like the br Garlanded tree, br With the hush of nostalgic br Expectancy. br br There was that year all the br Gifts were home made. br ("It's the thought that counts, br Not what you've paid") br Of course, grandma's scarf br Could have fit a giraffe br And the glaze soon came br Off Aunt Jane's carafe. br br Ah yes, it's Christmas when br Our feet are sore br From traipsing around in br Store after store.