‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the economy
Not a creature was stirring, save for the GDP.
The stock trades were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that low interest rates soon would stay there.
Forecasters were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of employment growth danced in their heads.
And Yellen in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the market arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the BLS I flew like a flash,
Tore open the data and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to data below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a trend of good growth—and all in the clear.
With a little old driver, so happy he says,
I knew in a moment it must be Perez.
More rapid than eagles his indicators they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now, income! Now, output! Now, production and trade!
On, M2! On, NASDAQ! On, purchases made!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As stabilizers that before the wild uncertainty fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the data they flew,
With the reports of joy, and Mr. Perez too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the news
All the celebrating of consumer views.
As I thought in my head, and was wand’ring around,
Down the chimney Mr. Perez came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of work he had flung on his back,
As the job-doling economist, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The end of a graph he drew right from his hand,
And the trend line rose up from the points oh so grand.
He had a broad face and a large thinking brain,
That explained many things, like how data are chained!
He was bookish and learned, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A peek at the data and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the job openings, 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 down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”
With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore
All images used by Jessie Willcox Smith are part of the public domain.
You can read my last two holiday-themed posts here and here.
