By J.Peterson

‘Twas the night before festival, when all thro’ the town,
All the creatures were stirring, volunteers can’t calm down;
The windmill was pushed down the street with care,
In hopes that visitors soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of aebleskiver danc’d in their heads,
And Mama in her bunad, and I in my vest,
Had just settled our feet that needed a rest-

When out on the park there arose such a clatter,
The Volunteer board jumped to see what was the matter.
Away through the streets they flew like a flash,
What might be broken they worry, and so they continue to dash.

The festival is a non-profit, volunteers do worry,
Money isn’t something we can get in a hurry
We have struggled through 2020 as others have too
And we are now wondering, just what might we do

As those volunteers dash through the streets with all their might
They are working through all the wee-hours of the night
Doc Fletchell began our festival tradition with care
But even back then it often didn’t have a penny to spare.

“Now! Dance, now build!, now cook, and create!
“Now schedule, Now fix!, Now Dance again, don’t be late!
“To the top of the stage! to the top of the windmill!
“Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the Windmill the coursers they flew,
With the trailer full of magazines – and a troll or two:

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the street
The accordion and instruments not missing a beat.
As I heard this, and was turning around,
Down the street came Fafnir the dragon with a bound:

He was dress’d all in scales, from his head to his foot,
And his body was all tarnish’d with ashes and soot;
A look of worry on a dragon’s face
Had all the volunteers beginning to pace

His eyes – how they twinkled! but his face was quite dreary,
The sound shack had burned as part of that darned 2020
Now 2021 has now come and gone and the sound shack is fixed
But our non-profit dealt with Unfestival and a burnt building all mixed.

Festival volunteers have really had to start to think,
Bringing festival finances back from the disaster brink.
We will haul trees they say, during this Christmas time
Hopefully our community will help us earn more than a dime:

The Volunteer board turned to Fafnir with care
And sighed while they reassured him that festival was still there
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

We spoke not a word, but went straight to our work,
And fill’d all the streets; then we turn’d with a jerk,
And dancing back home, in the wee-hours of that night
Our heart began to feel quite light.

The JC Community, loves this event
Hopefully we come together, or away it could be sent
But for now, all of us volunteers, do wish to you,

Merry Christmas to all, and as the Swedes say, “God Jul!”