'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

This time of year is one of my favorites, so I thought I would share with you all one of my favorite Christmas Stories, which may sound familiar to some of you.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the city
Not a driver was cursing, not even an old lady;
The signals were hung by the mast arm with care,
A sign that M. John had certainly been there;

The children were nestled all snug in their car seats,
While visions of green lights replaced their treats;
And mamma in the passenger seat, and I behind the wheel,
Had just settled down for a long winter's trip in our automobile,

When out on the highway there arose such a clatter,
I scanned the horizon to see what was the matter.
Through the intersection I made it thanks to a gap,
He tore open his coat and threw on his cap.

The moon on the breast of his new-fallen cape
Gave the lustre of calm to everyone needing escape,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a new controller, and eight tiny loops,

With a brief installation, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it would all just click.
More rapid than it began, the gridlock disappeared,
We whistled, and shouted, and all gave a big cheer;

"Now, Charger! now, Mustang! now, Prius and Pilot!
On, Caddy! on Lexus! on, Cruz and Camry!
To the top of the hill! Past the mall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

And then, with an extension, He let us all through
Our Christmas party arrivals were all over due.
As we smiled and waved and could stop turning around,
Down the support pole he came with a bound.

He was dressed in his green, from his head to his jeans,
His clothes were all tarnished with wasted gas and needless exhaust;
A bundle of tools he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

A push button he held tight in his hand,
With a pedestal and a ped head to band,
He had little time to work,
And so many controller settings to quirk.

He was calm and collected, and confident in himself,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And pulled all the wire; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his controller,
And giving a nod, up the cabinet his hand twitches;

He sprang to his feet, and flipped all the switches,
And away we all drove like red ants marching into the night.
But I heard him exclaim, as we drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."