The young Macphersons swarmed the Christmas tree like locusts on a ripe field. They greedily snatched at presents without regard for anyone or anything.
"Hold it right there," said Mama Macpherson, "You youngins have forgotten the reason for the season!"
"Sorry, Ma," the Macpherson kids said in unison.
"Why dontcha sing a Christmas carol, and think about who gave you those presents."
A melancholy verse rose in the living room:
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday, Baby Jesus.
Happy birthday to you!
Mama Macpherson wiped a single tear from her eye, "That's what Christmas is all about!"
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