‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all though the house,
The sound of my needles clicking was noticed only by a mouse.
The hand knit stocking were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that no one would see the grafting mistakes there.
The nephews where all snuggled in bed,
While thoughts of snowman sweaters danced in their heads.
While mom in her cable cardigan, and I in my fingerless mittens,
Had just settled in for a long for a long nights knittin’
When out on the lawn there arouse such a clatter,
I sprang from the purl row to see what was the matter.
Away the window I flew like a flash?
(Just one more row perhaps?)
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash,
After a few dropped stitches and decreases that match.
The moon, on the breast of the new fallen snow,
Was like lace out of mohair on my lap below.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear?
But a set of Denise needles and another knitter so near.
I knew in a moment that it must be the knitting fairy
To help with the holiday stitching, so I could be merry.
“Now purl one row, then knit two more!
Don’t forget to YO at the end of each row!”
To the top of the hat and matching mittens, does that look too small?
Too late now; knit away, knit away all!”
She spoke not a word, but when straight to her work,
And knit all the yarn that lurked.
Weaving in the ends as she goes,
She knit in a flash, taking with her all of my woes.
Her well-worked fingers gave a signal of approval
As she took her leave with her needles
I heard her exclaim:
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all good knittin’”