‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the shop,
Not a crafter was stirring, not even a mop.
The stockings were hung by the kiln with great care,
In hopes that last-minute buyers soon would be there.
The sellers were nestled all snug in their chairs,
Dreaming of keywords and shipping nightmares.
And I in my apron, glue gun in my lap,
Had just settled down for a much-needed nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my table to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tripping on ribbon and spilling my stash.
The moon on the glitter that dusted my floor
Gave a festive glow to the chaos galore.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
With a driver so crafty, so clever, so quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Stitch.
More rapid than FedEx, his reindeer they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Etsy! Now Shopify! Amazon, too!
On Pinterest! On Facebook! On eRank, woo-hoo!
To the top of the search! To the front of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”
As fabric scraps scattered and ribbons took flight,
He flew through my workshop with glee and delight.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard by the door,
The jingling and jangling of bags hitting the floor.
I turned ‘round my head and was fixing my bow,
When down through the chimney, St. Stitch did bestow
A sack full of orders, tied up with a string,
And he looked like a maker with everything.
His eyes—they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks red as felt, his nose like a cherry.
His hands bore the marks of a crafter’s hard days,
With calluses formed in a glittery haze.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his task,
Filling my shelves with supplies I had asked.
He added new tools and a laser engraver,
And gifts for my buyers—what a thoughtful favor!
Then, winking and smiling, he dashed out of sight,
Yelling, “Happy crafting to all and to all a good night!”
