The Night Before Christmas - South Texas style

'Twas the night before Christmas, in Texas, you see. 
From forest to mountains to flatland prairie. 
Wrapped up in their quilts, my family asleep, 
Their eyes were closed tight, their breathing was deep. 
  
We had our stockings, nailed there, on the wall,
Hung with excitement that Santa would call.
And me? I was watching the Christmas tree lights
When all of the sudden, I stood with a fright.

I saw through the window: with lights like the sun,
Was a loaded down pickup, comin’ on at a run, 
It sparkled and glistened in the clear Texas night, 
With three dogs, riding shotgun, it made such a sight. 
  
He called ‘em by name: “Butch, Heidi and Wyatt, 
There'll be plenty of riding for y’all; just sit tight." 
The driver wore Levi's and a shirt that was red, 
Had a light silver Stetson perched ‘top of his head. 
  
As he stepped from the Chevy, he was really a sight, 
His beard and his moustache, were curly and white. 
As he burst in the door, my family awoke, 
And me? I was speechless. Not one of us spoke. 
  
He looked at our tree, and our lights; gave a nod
And said, “But y’all know – tonight is really how God
In His love sent His Son to save you from sin
Eternal redemption and life for you He will win.”

Then softly, and lowly, we sang Silent Night
Then Joy to the World, and then said “Good night.”
As he stepped into his Chevy, my son moved his jaws
And asked in a whisper, "Are you Santa Claus?" 
  
"Am I the real Santa? Well, what do you think?" 
And he smiled as he gave a mysterious wink. 
Then he leaned out his window, and called back in his drawl, 
"Christ Jesus is born! Merry Christmas, Y’all!"