So it’s the holiday season and we’re all having to listen to the absurd legal arguments against public displays that celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. Then it hit me: how would Clement Clarke Moore craft his famous poem if he lived in America today? Here’s my take:
‘Twas the night before secular, winter holiday – that’s what it’s called now,
and not a religious figure was stirring, not even a sacred cow.
The children were dressed in blankets and towels with care,
Planning to act in a manger scene on the town square.
But the politically correct were horrified and appalled,
So the ACLU filed lawsuits having the performance outlawed.
And the Rabbi at City Hall with his menorah ready to light,
found his Hanukkah display outlawed in this bizarre legal fight.
And at the public park where the Kwanzaa display had arisen,
The local constables were taking the folks in Dashikis to prison.
Then suddenly, on the White House lawn there arose such a clatter,
I flipped on CNN to see what was the matter.
All across America there came a breaking story,
Covered by every TV host, even Springer and Maury.
As the moon beamed down on new-fallen snow,
It gave a revealing light to the holiday battle below.
Now who should appear on the TV almost before you could tune it,
But a Rabbi, Joseph and Mary and the Hip-Hop group, Kwanzaa Unit.
All together they started to lay down a rap so captivating and quick,
I thought it was lip sync’d, the old Milli Vanilli trick.
But the beatboxing was masterful and the rhymes they were spittin’,
And they whistled, and shouted, and the viewers were smitten.
“Yo, one – two check on the mic, ain’t we lookin’ glossy,
This is MC Rabbi with K-Unit,and the Bethlehem 3, my number one posse.
Why all the Po-Po arriving to stick us on the jail bus?
Cause we celebrate our faith in something bigger than us.
Whether it’s restoring God’s Temple, baby Jesus or African tradition,
Recognizing these events shouldn’t cause such perdition.
The ACLU hates us, they ain’t down with permission,
So, they make threats and lawsuits to put us out of commission.
What’s the problem with a menorah, the creche’ or a Kwanzaa kinara?
We celebrate Columbus, the Earth and Valentine’s Day.”
Then, as fast they could, this eclectic group leapt
from 1600 Pennsylvannia to the Supreme Court steps.
“Yo, Stevens, Alito, Scalia and Breyer,
If there’s no room for sacred holidays why don’t you retire?
What up Kennedy, Souter, Stevens and Thomas?
Stop endorsing the ACLU’s hating and make us a promise.
Let us honor our cultures, holidays and faith,
Come on Chief Justice Roberts, give us a break.”
Then Robert’s eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
Alito’s cheeks were like roses, Scalia’s nose like a cherry!
But Ginsburg’s tiny little mouth scrunched tight like a bow,
While the hair on Thomas and Kennedy gleamed white as snow.
Justice Souter’s jaw was clinched tight, grinding his teeth,
And Judge Steven’s ears smoked as his hands shook beneath.
And Breyer’s broad face showed so much reflection,
As the court pondered these citizens, their pain and rejection.
All at once, in a flash, appeared a jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
He let me know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
putting tolerance in the heart of anti-Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa jerk.
Then pointing his finger toward the Senate and House of Reps,
He magically appeared on the Capitol steps.
There he lit the menorah and the kinara, too,
as he gave the baby Jesus a hug, you could hear cows moo.
Then, he jumped in his sleigh, and as he drove out of sight, He shouted:
“Happy ChristmaHanuKwanzakah! Now, just stop the silly legal fight.”