A BOXER'S NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

by Ace Blazer


Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house,
My children were sleeping
And so was my spouse.
I sat 'neath the glow
Of my trusty desk lamp
Near midnight, finishing
One last hand-carved stamp.

As I whittled away,
Tiny pink pieces falling,
I smiled to myself
On that cold night, recalling
An old man I'd met
In the mall's parking lot
A few nights ago
Who was in a tight spot.

He'd seemed somewhat dazed
As he paced back and forth,
Mumbling to himself
"Now which way is North?"
I thought "Ah! A Boxer!
I know just what to do!"
And, pointing straight up,
Said: "I haven't a clue!"

His kind, bearded face
Grew a puzzled expression
And I realized this man
Didn't share my obsession.
It seems that I'd gotten
Our signals quite crossed;
He was no Letterboxer-
He simply was lost!

I asked the old gent
If he needed a ride.
With a wink and a smile,
"No, thanks" he replied.
"I'm a long way from home-
Thank you for caring-
I was last-minute shopping
Now I've lost my bearing."

"I can help you" I said
And without further thought,
From my bags I pulled out
A new compass I'd bought.
"I want you to have this
Your need's greater than mine.
I've a new one at home,
It will serve me just fine."

"Thank you" he said;
"This is just what I need."
I smiled as we parted;
I'd done my good deed.

Back in the present,
My carving now done,
I rose from my chair;
It was now half-past one.
I wondered where I'd hide
my new Yule-themed box
When there came from my door,
Three or four gentle knocks.

I opened the door
And there in the cold,
Was a brand-new compass
With a case of pure gold.
Attached was a note
Written neatly in red:
"Thanks for helping. -S.C."
Was all that it said.

I stood alone, puzzled
As I looked around
And then from afar
Came a jingling sound.
I then heard a voice
I'll recall til the end:
"MERRY CHRISTMAS
AND HAPPY BOXING, MY FRIEND!"

You should always help
Others in need, for you see,
You just never can tell
Who they really may be!

Letterboxing Night Before Christmas
(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

by Wisconsin Hiker


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the park
Not a creature was stirring, not even a lark.
The boxes were hid by the shelter with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The boxers were nestled all snug in their coats,
While clues for new boxes appeared in their notes.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my hat,
Had just settled our butts for a long boxing chat.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bench to see what was the matter.
Away to the meadow I flew like a flash,
Tore through the thistles and got a good gash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than cooties his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Marvey! On, Stampeaze! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the rocks! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As boxers that tackle the cryptic clues sigh,
When they meet with an obstacle, never say die!
So along the faint path the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of stamps, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard to the east,
The prancing and pawing of each little beast.
As I checked the compass, and was turning around,
Down the footpath St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed in camo, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all filthy with burrs, sticks and Deet.
A bundle of stamps he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a hiker, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like inkpads, 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.

The end of a marker held tight in his teeth,
And the ink it encircled his palm like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
The good carving stuff and a twist of his blade,
Soon gave me to know he had come to our aid.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the boxes, then turned with a jerk.
Then after stamping his sig stamp into the book,
He went back down the trail, with a careful last look.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

If you're interested in the entire clue for this permanent box, you can find
it here:

http://letterboxing.org/BoxView.php?boxnum=27563&boxname=Letterboxing_Night_
Before_Christmas

Wisconsin Hiker

All material contained herewith
has been copyrighted
by Pinecone Productions