‘Tis the night before Christmas and all through Las Moras,
The donkeys are braying some out-of-tune chorus.
One strand of low-energy lights is aglow,
And we hope that it won’t run our batteries too low.
A cute little pine tree’s propped up on one shelf
And our coworkers just forced us all to watch Elf.
The village is resting; the day’s work is through
The field has been planted; the corn’s been ground, too.
Each family is sleeping, four or five to a bed
And who knows just what visions might dance in their heads.
There’s no chimney here for Saint Nick to come down,
But that’s quite alright; he’s unknown in this town.
They don’t know about cookies or reindeer or toys
Or shepherds and angels and News of Great Joy.
So pray for the Nahuatl as Christmas day nears
Pray that new hope will replace all their fears.
Ask that the Nahuatl will see with new sight
That a land filled with darkness will be flooded with light.
(Oh…and Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.)
