Twas the week before processing, when all through the warehouse
All the workers were stirring, yes, even a mouse.
The decorations were hung on the trees with great care
Knowing volunteers soon would be there.

The boxes were piled all snug on their pallets,
While visions of blessing kids danced in their heads.
The Collection Door opens, more boxes come in.
Operation Christmas Child makes us all grin.

When out on the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the entrance I flew on that date,
Turned on the lights and threw open the gate.

The moon on the crest 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 train, driving by with great cheer.

With a little black pickup, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it had to be Rick.
More rapid than eagles his minions they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now Sarah! now, Kelly! now, Eggy and Kandi!
On, Nicole! On, Rick-O! On S’rena and Dara!
To the front of the crowd! to the edge of the stage!
Now sing away! Sing away! Sing away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So into the trailers the cartons they flew,
With boxes full of Toys, and lots of prayer too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in my ear
The singing and laughing of each volunteer.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the slick walkway Phil came with a bound.

He was dressed in a shoe box from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all colored with red and bright green.
A bundle of boxes he processed with friends,
And he loved taping boxes, the last hand to process them.

Her eyes-how they twinkled! her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the fur of her coat was as white as the snow.

The stump of a tree he held tight in his teeth,
And the chocolate encircled his feet like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And processed the boxes, then turned to the clerk.
And folding his hands and bowing his head,
And giving a nod, a blessing prayer he said!

They were bright red and green, piled high on the shelf,
And I laughed when I saw them, in spite of myself!
They were processed so quickly, and went the world ’round.
I happily knew they were Uganda bound.

He sprang to his truck, to his group gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard them all shout, ‘ere they drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”