Parents went scrambling to wayward tots’ beds
Only to find their errant kids dead.
A few were left safe, p’rhaps one in a million,
The reason was glaring; they were the good children.
This is part twenty of a larger story for Christmas. All parts are in the form of a stanza of a poem. Check back tomorrow for part twenty-one!
Awwww…. the Red Man has a soul.