‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the clinic,
Not a patient was stirring, not even a cynic.
The stockings were hung by the light board with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The associates were waiting in their office suite,
Wondering what last crisis would bring them to their feet.
Would it be Post Traumatic Stress, drug overdose, or depression,
Or maybe acute anxiety that would call for a session.
The possibilities were endless as they all pensively thought,
But nothing they couldn’t handle, if that’s what Santa brought.
As time passed by on this special Christmas Eve,
The associates began to settle and feel relieved.
But then all of a sudden, there arose a great clatter,
So they sprang from their offices to see what was the matter.
Away to their windows they flew like a flash,
Except for Tonja, Betsy, and Anne who had nowhere to dash.
But reports came quickly from the rest of the group,
Who were always very good at keeping them in the loop.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When, what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
But the white-bearded driver was missing, usually so lively and quick,
And everyone wondered, “Where in the world was St. Nick?”
What kept our jolly old fellow far, far away,
The night before Christmas with only one sleigh.
Was it agoraphobia, encopresis, or simple ADD,
That the reindeers came calling on the associates for free?
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And someone whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!
So who if not Santa was driving the sleigh that night,
And calming the reindeer from their terrible fright?
The South Bay Associates looked up into the sky,
And to their surprise saw Elsa and Larry flying by.
They swooped down in front of the building with ease,
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