The Staff Came a'Caroling.

The staff and volunteers snapped this photo

of me just as I opened the door and realized I was

about to be savaged by a gaggle of carolers

Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
My checkbook sat by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would bring money this year;

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like a flash,
Peaked out the window and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my horrified eyes did appear,
But a gaggle of staff and a few tiny volundeers

With a gasp and a prayer I had to be quick,
They knew I was home,  I was going to be sick.
More rapid than eagles I opened my door
Saw them, heard them, and shut it as before.

"Now, Mr. Williamson, don't be a Vixen!
Open that door, for we are fixin
To sing and sing you a Christmas Cheer
that will warm your heart and release a tear.

I begged them to stop.  I clutched at my head
They sang on and on which caused such a dread.
I knew my neighbors would take such a fright.
their singing would go on and on and on all night.
 
Two songs in and some time for talk
I convinced them to leave for I was in shock.
 My bah humbug mood was severely battered
And my life forever and ever shattered;
By those lovely carols, so destroyed;
left my heart,  a sterile void.

Yes, my home was caroled last night around 9:00 P.M.  It took me nearly thirty minutes to clean up the holiday cheer they left oozing around my front steps and door.  I shut the door the minute I realized I was in their line of sight.  They forced it back open.
 
Their strained version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" was accompanied by the howling of the neighbor's dog.  I thanked them for braving the cold to come visit their old boss and wished them well.  It wasn't enough.  They still wanted to sing.

Silent Night was their next attempt.  I couldn't recognize the key, and knew it was Silent Night only because of the lyrics.  I had to do something fast before the police arrived to investigate the disturbance.  I started signing a different carol. I don't remember what it was. I was in a state of shock that they had gotten ME to sing. 

They finally left me to my peace and returned to the work house.  I shut the door making a mental note to contact the work house warden and speak to him about his security.  Then something strange happened.  For a moment's moment, I think I felt what I can only describe as gratitude for their willingness to drive to Pleasant Grove to sing to their old boss.
 
I believe my stone cold heart pushed a bit of blood through my rarely used circulatory system.  I felt this warm rush overcome me.  Luckily the feeling passed nearly as quickly  as it had arrived. I returned to my small coal fire and bowl of lukewarm potato soup.  The light of the lone candle I allow myself on a cold winter's night,  flickered against the walls of my musty living room.

"Humbug," I muttered as I searched for bit of underdone potato in the murky liquid.

The stub of a candle flickered at the same moment a sound penetrated through the front door.  It was the sound of a chain being dragged against the concrete.  I stopped in mid stir - wondering if the staff, drunk with holiday cheer, had returned to stab me in the heart with a wreath of holly. 

For a moment I thought I heard my name whispered, or was it the wind outside?