The year had rolled around to bring
Another Christmas near.
Old Kaspar tidied up the room
and radiated cheer,
While Peterkin and Wilhelmine
Looked at the metaphoric screen.
They saw Old Santa’s little shop
Ablaze with neon lights,
And watched the reindeer warming up
In little practice flights;
While Santa, looking spruce and gay,
Was stacking bundles on the sleigh.
"Old Santa Claus is back again!"
The little children cried.
"A year ago we were afraid
He’d gone away and died!"
"When help arrived," Old Kaspar said,
"They found him sick and nearly dead."
"Then after all," cried Peterkin,
"He did get Federal Aid!"
"No plans for that," Old Kaspar sighed,
"Were ever even made.
A million parents made a dash
To rescue him with work or cash."
"A few brought cash," said Kaspar then,
"To pay Old Santa’s debts,
And pledged a fund to shield him from
The tax collector’s threats;
While others modernized his shop
From storage bin to chimney top."
The children stood in silence then
With flabbergasted eyes.
"It was amazing," Kaspar smiled,
"For such an act implies
That helping hands can operate
Without compulsion by the state."