“It’s hard now to believe that this is true:
The pastries, and the tree, and this bright fire,
These sacks of fragrant treats, and the soft choir,
That Santa suit, these ornaments so blue,
Those gifts in shining heaps of every hue,
The snapping, scented logs: all these conspire
To paint a pretty scene that might inspire
A cynic to dispute what’s known by few:
However, I was nice, and kind, and prayed
Each moment for a Christmas Eve like this:
A cozy home, a warm lap, and mild hands.
I paced cold streets in hope: then someone sleighed
My fears and took me up with a kind kiss,
And now I’m Santa’s cat– he understands!”