12/24/2025
’Twas the night before Christmas at Buck Stove once more,
And the plant smelled of steel with pride at the core.
The forklifts were parked and the lights burning low,
Yet somehow production was still on a roll.
Ronald the owner made one final round,
Checking the floors, every corner and sound.
He nodded with pride, maybe muttered a cheer,
Knowing this crew had crushed another fine year.
Daryl in the plant closed a full truck with jolt,
While Darren swore softly at one stubborn bolt.
“If it fits, it fits right,” they both would insist,
Then laugh knowing tomorrow they’d still find a twist.
Cherry in purchasing clutched coffee number four,
Making sure nothing was backordered, for the floor.
If Santa needed steel, gaskets, or flame,
She already knew the supplier by name.
Brian in engineering squinted hard at a print,
“Just one more revision,” or so was the hint.
Perfection takes time, he reminded the crew,
Even Rudolph’s red nose went through testing or two.
Shawn in sales was still closing a deal,
Promising warmth you can actually feel.
“It’s built in America,” he proudly would say,
While checking his phone one last time that day.
Tammi in shipping taped boxes with flair,
Every label straight, every corner just there.
“If it rattles, it’s wrong,” she said with a grin,
Making sure nothing but perfection moved within.
Vanda in furniture staged mantels just right,
Each one saying Christmas before Christmas night.
She stepped back and smiled, then fixed one last thing,
Because perfect displays are kind of her thing.
Jean in customer service calmed worries with grace,
“Let’s walk through it slowly,” she’d patiently say.
Lisa jumped in with a laugh and a plan,
Solving problems faster than most folks can.
...to be continued