No Santa Claus For Poor Kids   

The night was bright and bitter, nearly 40 below

They drove along the winding roads of North Ontario

A mother and two children , out there in the cold

On the road at Christmas, all alone

 

People out of money, a family out of dreams

Leaving home at Christmas sometimes life can be so mean

She tells the kids there won’t be any gifts for them this year

The only things they’ll get this year are tears

 

There’s no Santa Claus for poor kids

There’s no stockings in the hall

No Christmas trees to decorate

With gold and silver balls

Not much hope left when you’re at the point

Of nothing left at all

No Santa Claus for poor kids

When your back’s against the wall

 

Outside an old farmhouse, the car finally broke down

She cried softly to herself as the kids gathered around

They knocked upon the door and soon it opened wide

And a little old man invited them inside

 

He listened to their story and then gave them such a smile

He said I’m all alone and you can stay here for awhile

He fed them a good hot supper and sent them off to bed

As she gave her thanks the mother softly said

 

chorus 

They woke up in the morning, and walked down the stairs

There was food upon the table but the old man wasn’t there

Two stockings under a little tree and a $50  bill

And a note that said “I fixed your car - use this as you will”

 

All this happened long ago but she remembers it today

Things are so much better now than on that Christmas day

And she’s written to that little man her thanks for what he done

The letters came back unopened every one

 

 

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© Don Adams