'Twas the Night Before Christmas...in Minnesota! (Free Audio)

Snuggle up and experience the magic of the Midwest with a poem from our silly new audiobook. ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in Minnesota is a heartwarming holiday journey you won’t forget…served up with extra lutefisk and tater tot hotdish!

Festive Fun…and a Little Chuckle

Get ready for a holiday treat with our new audiobook, “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas… in the Midwest!” We’re bringing a fresh spin to a classic. This isn’t just any reading. We take you on a fun-filled ride across the Midwest.

From Minnesota to Iowa, to Wisconsin, each part is filled with our signature humor and heartwarming touches. It’s perfect for family time or a good laugh on your own. So, snuggle up and join us for a Midwest Christmas adventure. It’s sure to be a new favorite in your holiday collection. Trust us, it’s a hoot and a half!

Get a Free Audio Download!

Even though our audiobook is available on all the big box stores like Amazon, Walmart, Apple, Spotify and wherever audiobooks and music are sold, we thought it’d be fun to give you a little thank you for reading our blog. To grab an audio download of today’s poem, just click here.

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas…in Minnesota

‘Twas the night before Christmas, in good ol’ Minn,
Not a walleye was wiggling, not even a fin;
The stockings were hung by the chimney just right,
In hopes that St. Nick soon would alight;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While dreams of tater tot hotdish danced in their heads;
And Lena in her flannel, and I in my cap,
Had just settled in for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a loon,
Tore open the shutters and searched by the moon.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave a luster of midday to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a sled full of Grain Belt, and eight burly deer,

With a little old driver, so lively and slick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than snowmobiles his coursers they came,
And he whooped, and hollered, and called them by name:

“Now, Sven! now, Ole! now, Lars and Torvald!
On, Ingrid! on, Helga! on, Bjorn and Arnald!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild blizzard fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew
With the sled full of goodies, and St. Nick too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The stomping and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nick came with a bound.

He was decked out in flannel, from his head to his toe,
With a dash of flour from baking, adding to his glow;
A bundle of hotdish he had tucked in his sack,
And he smelled just like lutefisk — so take a step back!

His eyes—how they twinkled beneath the Northern Lights!
His dimples how jolly, his laugh just delights!
His cheeks were as rosy as a December morn,
With a nose nipped by frost, like when I use the outside back behind the barn!

The last bit of a jucy lucy he held tight in his mitts,
And the snowflakes, they danced around him in fits;
He had a kind face and a big ol’ belly that you’d wanna poke
When he chuckled he sounded like he just heard a bad dad joke.

He was hearty and warm, a true Minnesotan elf,
And I grinned when I met him, in spite of myself;
With a nod of his head and a soft “Oh, don’t cha know,”
No time for a Minnesota goodbye, he had to leave before the next snow;

So he spoke not a word, and without thinking twice
He filled all the stockings, an example of Minnesota nice.
And laying his finger in front of his nose,
With a cheerful “Uff da,” up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sled, to his team gave a holler,
And away they all flew, like a fast-flying mallard.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all in Minnesota, uff-da, you betcha!”