You’ve heard the famous line from the end of the poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” by Clement Clarke Moore. (Side note: did you know it as called that? Me neither! You may know it as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.”) Those jolly words are spoken by Santa, having just worked his magic on a house where one man caught him in the act.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
As it is the end of the poem, it seems only fitting that it is often used as a punctuation to the Christmas Season. It ends the movie adaptations of the poem, and I’m sure it has wrapped up a Hallmark movie or two. Jolly Old Saint Nick has completed his journey around the globe, dropped off the presents for all the good little girls and boys, and is flying back to the North Pole for a much earned cup of hot cocoa. The stars glisten on a calm, Christmas night, where everyone is sleeping, and the calm and magnitude mirror that of the original Christmas night that started it all. The bustle is over. The world is at rest. It is time to take down the tree.
Or is it?
For years now, I have struggled with the onset of a silly bout of post-Christmas blues. I work hard during the season to resist overdoing it, so I don’t end up exhausted and anxious for it all to just be over. But as a result, I never feel quite ready to let go of the twinkling lights, surprised eyes, and general magic of it all. Yes, I am the one who actually cries a little bit when I take the tree down.
As a result of all of this, the seeming closure in the final line of that poem rubs me the wrong way. If you ask me, anything at all that brings closure to Christmas can just go wrap itself in a tight ribbon and get lost in a closet. Empty stockings, bare houses, vocal opponents to the carrying on of Christmas carols after lunch on the 25th…none of it makes sense to me. Me, the person who left our tree up one year until March because I thought it might look nice on my birthday.
So this year, as I try not to fall into the void left by having nothing left to look forward to, I am taking a closer look at that last line.
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Uttered on Christmas Eve, this line foretells a night of excited, often interrupted sleep for children—one unique night when parents are excited to stay up late and wrap presents, and don’t mind being woken up too early by giddy little Whos. In this last line, Santa gives breath to the magic implied through the rest of the poem:
While visions of sugar-plums danced I their heads…
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter…
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below…
A sleigh full of toys…
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back…
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!…
A right jolly old elf…
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle…
People are springing from their beds and tearing open shutters. Reindeer are flying rapidly—dashing, as it were. They carry a “lively and quick” driver who whistles, twinkles, and exudes merriness from every inch of his body. He smiles, laughs, and the power of his wink inspires calm and peace. Twinkling sounds fill the air. Truly nothing can rival this dazzling experience.
Right?
Still I wonder, could it be that Jolly Old Saint Nicholas, with his jiggling belly full of jelly, is jolly because he knows that the joy does not end with him? After all, at the conclusion of his mission, as he flies out of sight, he knows the world below him still waits in anticipation for Christmas morning.
Christmas morning, when the Whos down in Whoville will be singing loud for all to hear. When every Grinch’s heart will grow three sizes. When people give, and love, and speak about Jesus Christ. Christmas Day, no matter what it looks like, is the chapter the poem leaves untouched. Because in truth, it would not be possible to end the poem after an account of Christmas Day, because Christmas Day, when done right, never ends. Christmas Day is a beginning. It is a high point of excitement that reminds us of what really matters. A feeling we must strive to hold onto throughout the year.
And that’s why I take no issue with the way the poem ends. It highlights the potential energy that has been subtly building in the background of a weary, hopeless world. The energy that has the power to catapult us over the finish line of New Year’s Eve. The dissonance of the day after Christmas Day only has power if it is allowed to act as a period. Might I suggest we treat it more like a dash.
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
