‘Twas the night before Christmas, in the world of tech,
Not a mouse was stirring, no keyboard click or peck.
The servers were humming with data to spare,
In hopes that St. Debug soon would be there.
While visions of upgrades danced in their heads.
And I in my workshop, with tools and with care,
Prepared for the tasks that soon would be there.
When out in the workshop, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the desktop, I flew like a flash,
Tore open the case, threw open the stash.
The moon on the desktop of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When what to my troubleshooting eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny engineers.
With a little old driver, so tech-savvy and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than fiber, his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
“Now, Intel! now, AMD! now, NVIDIA and Dell!
On, ASUS! on, HP! on, Toshiba as well!
To the top of the desk, to the top of the wall,
Now dash away, dash away, dash away all!”
As capacitors that before the power surge fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the hard drive, the coursers they flew,
With a sleigh full of gadgets, and St. Nicholas too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my breath and was turning around,
Down the chimney, St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in all black, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of cables he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a geek, just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like circuit boards, rosy and cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a wire,
And the beard on his chin was as white as a flyer.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And fixed all the issues, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the launch of a missile.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good byte!”