Tiny Christmas
“Where do the bugs spend Christmas, Dad?
Where do they go when it’s cold?
What do they give each other, Daddy?”
Then she sat, and she waited to be told.
So I sat down beside her and held her hand,
And I told her the Truth about Things.
That all of the good bugs have a party,
Where they wait for what Santa Claus brings.
All the fireflies get fresh batteries,
That will last them until the next year,
The butterflies all get new fancy designs,
They so like to be stylish, My Dear!
The ants will get pants that have pockets,
They must carry so much around,
They can pack a few nibbles to munch on,
While they’re working so hard through the year!
The nice bees will each get a compass,
To help them as they fly about,
And they all get the tiniest radio,
That’s to give one another a shout!
For when a bee finds some flowers,
She doesn’t just keep them herself,
She calls on her friends, and they help her,
To put honey jars up on the shelf!
So what they are doing in Winter,
Or when it’s too cold or too wet?
They all sit around writing letters,
And they send them to Santa! You bet!
Up at the North Pole there’s a section,
For the notes that are tiny and faint,
But that’s where the bugs’ tiny letters,
Get the message across to a Saint!
Then Santa makes sure that they get things,
With the help of each reindeer’s hoof,
Every stop that he makes for a chimney,
They sprinkle out dust on the roof!
And that dust settles down where the bugs are,
And then magically finds its way,
To the right kind of insect that needs it,
And it fills the bug’s stocking that day!
In the Spring, when you see a bright butterfly,
Or a bee zooming off on its task,
Just remember the good get rewarded,
But it’s also important to ask!
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . December 25, 2005