8/4/2019 Yoda - Night Before XMas

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The Night Before Christmas

as told by Master Yoda to Master Red Heron

The night before Christmas, it was; and all through the house, a creature stirred not, not even a mouse. Stockings with care all by the chimney were hung, with hope that to be there Saint Nicholas would. Children all nestled, they were, snug in their 

 beds. Hmph. Had visions of sugar-plums, they did, dancing in their heads. Hmph. Was mother in her kerchief. Was father in

his cap. Were both settled down for a long winter’s nap.

Arose there upon the lawn a loud clatter; sprang from his bed, father did, to see what was the matter. Away he flew, to the

window, like a flash. Hmph. Tore open the shutters, he did—hurried, he was. Threw up the sash. Saw he the moon upon the

 breast of new-fallen snow, giving luster to objects below like mid-day. To his wondering eyes, appeared a sleigh in miniature,

and eight tiny reindeer. Hmph.

Had it a little, old driver. Lively he was. Quick he was. Knew he at that moment that this person was Saint Nick. More rapid

than eagles his reindeer they came. Whistled, he did, and shouted each by name:

“Now Dasher!” said he. “Now Prancer, Now Prancer and Vixen.” Hmph. “On Comet! On Cupid! On Donner and Blitzen,”

called he, and then: “To the top of the porch,” ordered he. “To the top of the wall. Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away

all!” Heh-heh-heh! (Imagine, can you, these reindeer atop a wall? Hee-hee-hee!)

As dry leaves that before wild hurricanes fly, when meet they with an obstacle, mount to the sky, they do. Yes. So up to the

house-top his reindeer they flew. Had they a sleigh filled with toys, and Saint Nicholas, too. In a twinkling, one could hear 

upon the roof, the prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof. Drew him his head in, father did, and turned around to see Saint

 Nick. Down the chimney Saint Nick came, with a bound. Hee-hee-hee! (How fit one so large through a space so narrow?

This surely was misperception, but how wonderful can be such misperception! Hmph!)

Dressed, he was, all in furs, from head unto foot. Tarnished they were, with ashes and with soot. A bundle of toys had he,

flung over his back. Looked like a peddler, Saint Nick did, just opening his pack.

Eyes twinkled, they did. Hee-hee! Dimples, merry! Cheeks like roses! Nose, like cherry! Quaint little mouth, drawn up like a

 bow. Beard of his chin, white as the snow, it was. Held he the stump of a pipe tightly in his teeth. Smoke wreathed around his

head. Ye-e-ess. Broad, his face was. Like mine. Round his belly was. Like mine. Ye-e-ess. Yet when laugh, he did, it shook 

like jelly. Chubby, plump he was. Laughing old elf, he was. Laughed in spite of himself, father did.

Winked he did at father, who seemed to fall at ease, he did. Nothing to dread. Spoke Saint Nick not one word. Went straight

to his work, he did. Filled all the stockings, he did. Then turned he, with a jerk. And a finger laying alongside his nose, gave

he a nod, and up the chimney he rose.

Sprang him to his sleigh, he did. To the team, gave a whistle, he did. Away flew they, like the down of a thistle. But before

out of sight they were, Saint Nick did call: “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

There you have it: visit he did. The Force is strong with those who have even a small amount of compassion. Do many

things, they can, like create flying sleigh. With compassion, a great many things are possible. Hmph. So while true this story

may be, or may not be, the truth of the lesson remains: away put your selfish desires. Giving and generosity empower both

giver and receiver; selfishness, only the receiver empowers.

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The Force is strong with us when accepting we are, even if unbelieving we might be. Accept only the nature of a tale as

magical, and it is enough. Giving we Jedi are, by nature. So, younglings: if giving you focus on, instead of what you may find

within a holiday gift, then discover you will the true reward of being a Jedi.