Genealogy
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
For I am a genealogist and I had forgot,
The tree wasn't up and not a single gift was bought.
While the little children's heads were full of sugarplum thrills,
I'd spent the whole season looking for grandparents' wills.
While others had fought the crowds to buy that ol' Christmas cheer,
I'd used my time to look for Granny's birth date and year.
But then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
That I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
But was it old Santa I had come to expect,
Not to bring happy gifts but to wring my fool neck?
He had a big red bag all slung over his back,
But looked more to me like a big mail sack,
Toys he had for children, lots of candies and cookies, too.
Then he did a turnabout and said, "Now it's time for you."
Then he pulled out a package, seemed funny-shaped to me;
"Here," he said, "My gift to you--A branch of your own family tree."
There were all the missing links I'd tried so hard to find,
The documents and pictures, too,
It was a genealogical gold mine!
As he started to leave I gave him a big hug.
He'd made the merriest Christmas ever for this humble genie bug.
Off to his waiting reindeer and up and away he flew,
Saying, "Merry Christmas to all and good hunting to you."
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
I am still working on the family genealogy.
. . . Diane . . .