T’was the Day after Thanksgiving – a poem

Last Sunday, I began my sermon with an abbreviated parody of that most famous of holiday poems, “A Visit from St. Nicholas” by Clement Clarke Moore.

I have received so many requests for copies of my version that I am posting it here.  Perhaps that is proof that being stuck in Black Friday “mall traffic” really CAN lead to some productive outcome.  Or not.  Sigh….

T’was the Day After Thanksgiving

By the Rev. Jeff Barz-Snell


Twas the day after Thanksgiving, and all through the Mall

Throngs of Shoppers were stirring, in stores wall to wall.

The sale signs were hung by the doorways with care

In hopes that eager buyers soon would be there.


The analysts all hoped people would buy without reason

and ensure that this day would kick off the big season.

And ma with her credit cards and I with my wallet

Had just settled on buying a new whad-ya-call-it.


When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter

That I looked up from my latte’ to see what was the matter.

Away to the sidewalk, I flew like a flash,

To see – if-this-was-something-else – wanting my cash.


The SUV’s that lined the huge parking lot

Looked like packages awaiting a huge ribbon and knot.

When, what, to my wondering eyes should appear

But two men – fighting – for a parking space – near –

(to the stores that is).


“Hey move it!  Get outta here” – the words did they fly,

“Get your own spot –up yours” – came the reply.

Then, more rapid than eagles the insults they came

And they whistled and shouted and called out bad names:


“Who are they?” I asked to one of the clerks,

“Who cares,” was the response, “probably some jerks.”

“It’s ironic,” the kid said, “it truly defies reason,

With THIS we begin this most joyous of seasons?”


So I flew to the door not sure what to do,

“Stop it,” I shouted.  “Don’t look like a fool.”

The spirit of the season is not for sale in a store

It lies in how we treat each other – and how we are… more.


There are plenty of spaces in this big parking lot,

Go find one elsewhere before firing a shot.

This is the season to yield to one another.

This guy’s not a jerk, he’s rather your brother.