Twas the week before Christmas and all through the farm.

Not a chicken was stirring, they’re all in the barn.

All summer they roam, but when once the snow flies,

our hens will not go out to where the snow lies.

They scratch up the bedding and look for some treat;

it might be a bug or a missed grain of wheat.

The hens are all busy with laying their eggs,

without the distraction of neighbouring pigs.

For Kali and Ginger are living outside,

in houses with straw is where they abide.

They burrow and dig until it’s just right,

and stay cozy warm through a winter’s chill night.

As Christmas approaches we all become stressed,

the days become shorter, the sun is seen less.

The gifts we must buy, there is baking to do

There are concerts and parties and gatherings, too.

We rush all about and become very busy,

the pace of our lives can make you feel dizzy.

It’s time to slow down and take a time out,

can this really be what this season’s about?

It started one night in a small rural town,

where houses were full with no room to be found.

A stable was loaned to be home for the night,

a baby was born to make everything right.

Remembering this might help all of us,

to slow down a bit and forget all the fuss.

The first Christmas night was a quiet affair,

a child and his parents were all who were there.

Except for the shepherds and all of their flocks,

the cattle, the donkey who had the long walk.

The peace that was found in that lowly spot,

seems to be something we’ve all but forgot.