A delightful poem briefly detailing the evolution of Santa Claus.
Image credits: Guideposts.org.
‘Twas the night before articles were due when in the writer’s head,
An image formed of white snow, black coal, and utter dread.
An echoing laugh ricocheted off of the brick walls,
Haunting each corner of her brain, for who is this who calls?
Kris Kringle is what she heard some say
Or the generous Saint Nicholas who gave much away,
Like a dowry to three sisters to be sold, soul and all,
On December 6th, it’s for Saint Nick that the day of feast falls.
Sinterklaas was enjoyed by most in those days
Before Reformation left it in a forgotten haze.
But Holland held on to its tradition in its grip,
And Dutch settlers in America made sure it didn’t slip.
Clement Moore heard of the gift-giving saint from New Amsterdam,
Writing “A Visit from St. Nicholas” to warm his frostbitten fans.
This tale of a jolly, sleigh-riding Santa took flight
Where he exclaimed into the sky: “and to all a good night!”
But these images of Santa seemed bland, black and white
Until artist Thomas Nast took his chance, took a bite.
He drew Saint Nick in the Harper’s Weekly paper,
And soon the tan coat of the man turned to vapor.
Throughout the Civil War, Nast drew a red-coat on the jolly soul,
Creating a supporter of the Union who lived in the North Pole.
Nast’s portrait of the man dragged on for thirty years,
Gaining a workshop and a book of names for you and all your peers.
A beloved beverage company took the image in its reins,
And the saint joined Coca-Cola ads, injecting sugar into veins.
Remembering the warm, friendly qualities described by Moore,
The image of the modern Santa Claus was born.