Hi,
This is Niall Breslin and I'm going to read you Twas the Night Before Christmas.
Twas the Night Before Christmas is a joy-filled and charming story that describes Santa Claus and his visit to a family's home on Christmas Eve,
First published anonymously in 1823 and later attributed to Clement Clarke Moore.
This story is part of the Bedtime at Barnardo's campaign raising awareness and funds to help vulnerable children in the Republic of Ireland.
Before we begin,
Let's take a few moments to relax.
Make sure you're comfortable free from distractions.
Having a little stretch all the way to your fingers and toes.
And relax.
Take a nice gentle breath in and exhale through the mouth.
Do that once more.
Then gently close your eyes and feel yourself sink into your seat or bed,
Letting go and feeling relaxed.
Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore.
Twas the night before Christmas when all through 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 sugarplums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her kerchief and I in my cap had just settled down 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 midday to objects below.
When what to my wandering 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 that must be St.
Nick.
More rapid than eagles as coarse as 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 Blixen 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 housetop the courses they flew with a 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 hand and was turning around down the chimney 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 ash and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back and he looked 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 on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held 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 laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump,
A right jolly old elf and I laughed 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 filled all the stockings then turned with a jerk and laying his finger aside of his nose and giving a nod up the chimney he rose.
He sprang 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 and he drove out of sight.
Happy Christmas to all and to all a good night.
