A Christmas Poem: A Visit from St. Vincent

Practical Software Solutions will be closed on Monday, Dec. 25 and Jan. 1, as well as Tuesday, Dec. 26 and Jan. 2. As we get ready to celebrate Christmas and the New Year, please enjoy this homage to “A Visit from St. Nicholas.”

’Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the office

All the technicians were stirring, especially with mouse clicks;

Their coding was quick but was done with great care,

In hopes that St. Vincent soon would be there;

The coders were huddled all snug at their desks,

While visions of time off danced in their heads;

And Greg in his office, and me in mine ’cross the way,

Had just settled our accounts for a long winter’s vacay;

When out in the parking lot there arose such a roar,

I sprang from my chair to see if it was his Ford;

Away to the front door I flew like a flash,

I tripped over the carpet and hit the door with a crash;

The sun on the windshields on the cars in the lot,

Blinded me as though it was 20,000 Watts;

When, who to my wondering eyes should appear,

But our fearless leader looking rather cavalier;

He entered the building, his words he did not mince,

Christmas 2017 - St Vince

When, who to my wondering eyes should appear, But our fearless leader looking rather cavalier …”

I knew in a moment it must be St. Vince;

More rapid than eagles his employees they worked,

And he whistled, and shouted, and said with a smirk;

“Now, Philip! now, Eric! now, Bryant and Matthew!

On, Brian! on Andy! on Jake One and Jake Two!

Now hurry up and finish your work y’all,

So we can dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As ice that before the Carolina Hurricanes fly,

The techs’ fingers flew as the hours flew by;

So continuing their work the coders they did,

Despite growing weary with drooping eyelids;

And then, in a twinkling, I heard at their desks,

The clicking and pawing of typing sound effects;

As I came back inside, and was turning around;

Into his office St. Vince went with a bound;

He was dressed like he was with his VFD shirt,

But with no fire to fight, with no ashes or soot;

A bundle of mail he held tight in his hand,

Was the last bit of work before the group could disband;

(Now I’ll skip all the parts where I describe his looks,

Ere I still stay employed and in St. Vincent’s good books;

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,

Signed all of the checks, and gave them back to the clerk;

“What’re y’all still doing here?” he called to his crew,

Out of their chairs they rose, and out the door they flew;

He sprang to his truck, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all drove like the down of a thistle;

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove down the road,

“Happy Christmas to all, and enjoy no workload!”

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