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Christmas was coming very soon and a little boy's heart was glad.
He kept giving clues daily of his wishes from Ole Santa dear.
His Dad with a twinkle in his loving eyes teased his young lad,
Now, Sonny Boy, you might be getting nothing for Christmas this year.

Young chap had seen that wry twinkle in his eyes many times galore.
Heard Dad use it at anniversaries and birthdays all the time.
His heart was racing as the days came to December twenty four.
And he hurried off to his bedroom as soon as the clock struck nine.

Those words “nothing for Christmas this year” brought tears falling off his chin.
It would be a Yuletide disaster that would hurt him to the quick.
Down deep felt he had not been as good a boy as he could have been.
Soon he was asleep, putting his faith in the goodness of St. Nick.

At dawn, he awoke to odors rising from mama's cooking pots.
Could sense wonderful aromas of cakes, yams, dressing, and turkey.
Dad was calling him to come downstairs and see what Santa had brought.
With the speed of a fifty yard dash runner, he was at the tree.

To his dismay and shock there were no gifts, no toys, no bike to ride.
He fell to his knees and began to cry, feeling so very sad.
Then felt a nudge of his pajama top, something wet on his side.
Surprise, a cold-nose puppy with a waggling tail and big brown eyes.

Tears exchanged for shouts of delight; he forgot about a toy.
Glancing at his smiling Dad with eyes full of Christmas joy and cheer,
You said Ole Santa might pass me by; just kidding your Sonny Boy.
Naming puppy Nothing, 'cause I got Nothing for Christmas this year.

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