'Twas the Night Before Christmas Worksheet Download

Can you picture a sleigh landing on a snowy roof? A famous poem tells all about a quiet Christmas Eve night. Its real name is "A Visit from St. Nicholas."

Wow, that poem is more than 200 years old! In 1823, a New York newspaper printed it for the first time. The writer's name was left off, so readers had to wonder.

Years later, Clement Clarke Moore was named the author, or writer. The poem tells of eight reindeer and a sleigh on the roof. Families still read it aloud on Christmas Eve, over 200 years later!

Wow, a poem more than 200 years old is still read aloud every December! It begins with a quiet house on Christmas Eve, where not even a mouse is stirring. Then a jolly visitor arrives with eight tiny reindeer!

Those tiny reindeer first trotted onto a newspaper page in New York in 1823, with no author's name. An author is the person who writes a poem, so readers had a real mystery! It was like enjoying a cookie without meeting the baker!

Later, Clement Clarke Moore, a teacher in New York City, was named as the author. The poem gives Santa a sleigh that lands on the roof, pulled by eight reindeer. You can almost hear the "prancing and pawing" of little hooves!

That prancing and pawing keeps going when families read the poem aloud every Christmas Eve. Doing something special again and again, year after year, is called a tradition. Imagine: a poem printed with no name is still shared at bedtime more than 200 years later!

Imagine you are snuggled under a blanket on Christmas Eve while a grown-up reads a poem out loud. The poem is called "A Visit from St. Nicholas," but most people know it as "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." It tells about a quiet house, a clatter on the roof, and a jolly visitor in a sleigh. Its bouncy rhymes sound almost like a song!

This cozy poem began in a newspaper, not a book. On December 23, 1823, a paper in Troy, New York, printed it as an anonymous poem, which means no author's name was shown. Readers liked it so much that other papers printed it too. Many years later, a professor named Clement Clarke Moore was named as the author.

Moore's name came later, but the picture in the poem spread fast. The poem describes a sleigh landing on a rooftop, pulled by "eight tiny reindeer." Because the words were so lively, readers could picture Santa Claus with a round belly and a bag of toys. Did the poem help shape Santa's story? Yes, because it gave storytellers and artists a picture to share.

Those eight reindeer have been leaping through Christmas Eve for about 200 years. Reading the poem aloud has become a tradition, which is something families do the same way year after year. Think of it: a poem that began in a newspaper with no author's name still fills living rooms with its rhymes every December.

Picture a cold December day in 1823 in Troy, New York, where someone unfolds a newspaper called the Troy Sentinel. There on the page is a brand-new poem about a quiet house on Christmas Eve, with lines that bounce like hoofbeats. Can you guess who wrote it? Nobody could, because the poem was printed without an author's name!

That missing name stayed a mystery for many years, even as newspapers kept reprinting the poem. Later, Clement Clarke Moore, a professor in New York City, was named as the author, and in 1844 he included it in a book of his own poems. Today most people call it "'Twas the Night Before Christmas," though its title is "A Visit from St. Nicholas."

Readers may not have known the author, but they remembered the eight reindeer that pranced through the lines. The poem names them, including Dasher, Prancer, and Comet, and it sends Santa's tiny sleigh landing right on a rooftop. Before then, stories about St. Nicholas and other gift-bringers were told in many different ways. The poem's team of eight and rooftop landing helped make a picture people still share today.

Eight was the whole team until 1939, when writer Robert L. May added a ninth reindeer named Rudolph. The poem also gave readers a close-up of Santa himself, whose round belly shakes "like a bowl full of jelly." It describes his twinkling eyes, rosy cheeks, and a bundle of toys on his back. Artists read those words and drew what they imagined, and their drawings helped shape the Santa people picture today.

Whether drawn or written, pictures like those are easy to imagine, which makes the poem perfect for reading out loud. On Christmas Eve, many families snuggle close while one person reads and everyone waits for favorite rhymes. A poem that first appeared in a newspaper with no name is still being read aloud more than 200 years later!

Can you solve a mystery that is more than 200 years old? A poem showed up in a newspaper with no author's name on it, and it went on to become one of the best-loved Christmas poems ever written. Readers first saw it on December 23, 1823, in the Troy Sentinel, a newspaper in Troy, New York. Today most people know it by its first words, "'Twas the night before Christmas," though its title is "A Visit from St. Nicholas."

That missing name was only the first clue, because the poem spread fast without anyone knowing whom to thank. Newspapers and books reprinted it year after year, and families learned it by heart. Then, in 1837, a book of poems credited Clement Clarke Moore, a New York City professor who taught at a seminary, which is a school for training church leaders. Moore did not put it in a collection of his own poems until 1844, more than twenty years after it first appeared.

Even with Moore's name attached, the mystery did not end, because another writer's family spoke up. Relatives of Henry Livingston Jr., a New York poet, said he had written the poem before 1823 and read it aloud to his children. Historians and scholars have compared word choices, writing styles and old family memories, and people still debate the answer today. Imagine a puzzle where the clues are old letters and the way someone liked to rhyme!

Whoever wrote it, the poem's words painted a picture so clear that everyone who read it could see it. It describes a small sleigh landing on a rooftop, pulled by eight reindeer that are each called out by name. Artists loved those details and began drawing them, so the poem's jolly, round-bellied visitor and his sleigh became familiar in pictures. Rudolph, the famous reindeer with the glowing nose, would not join the team until 1939, more than a century later.

Those reindeer still gallop through living rooms every December, because families turned the poem into a read-aloud tradition. Parents, grandparents and children take turns reading it at bedtime, beside the tree, or across the miles on a video call. Its galloping rhythm makes it easy to read aloud, and many people can say whole lines from memory. Not bad for a poem that first appeared in a newspaper without a signature!

You would probably guess that a poem read aloud in countless homes has always carried a famous author's name, right? Not this one! When it first appeared in the Troy Sentinel, a New York newspaper, on December 23, 1823, it had no author's name at all, only the title "Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas." Yet its fifty-some lines paint a picture you can almost hear: a hush over a snug house, stockings waiting by the chimney, and a rhythm that gallops like hooves. Poets call that bouncing beat anapestic, a pattern of two quick syllables followed by a strong one, and it makes the lines feel as if they are trotting right off the page.

A poem with no signature could have vanished like yesterday's news, but this one was reprinted in other newspapers and books over the following years. In 1844, more than twenty years after that first printing, Clement Clarke Moore, a scholar in New York City, included it in a book of his own poems. Moore was a serious scholar who had even compiled a Hebrew dictionary, which makes a playful poem about a sleigh a delightful surprise. According to family tradition, he first wrote it as a gift for his children.

But a name in a book does not always close a case, and this one has a plot twist. Descendants of Henry Livingston Jr., a poet from New York's Hudson Valley, have long said that he wrote the verses years before 1823 and read them to his own children. Experts have compared the poem's word choices, its rhythms and old records, and they still do not all agree on who deserves the credit. In this writer's view, the debate proves how much people treasure the poem, because nobody argues this hard over something they do not love.

Whoever held the pen, the poem's pictures have stuck like snow to a windowpane. It shows a tiny sleigh landing on a roof, eight reindeer pawing at the shingles, and a jolly old elf slipping down the chimney. Can you name all eight reindeer? The poem does it for you: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder and Blitzen. In the very first printing, the last two were spelled Dunder and Blixem, which sound a lot like Dutch words for thunder and lightning.

One famous reindeer is missing from that lineup: Rudolph, who did not join the story until 1939, in a booklet written by Robert L. May for a department store. Today, many families still gather on Christmas Eve to read the poem aloud or pass a picture book from lap to lap, often just as their grandparents did. Its rhymes are so catchy that even young listeners can chime in on a favorite line before the reader gets there. Not bad for a poem that first tiptoed into print without a name: it now belongs to everyone who has ever listened for hooves on a rooftop.

Picture a poem shorter than a single chapter of most novels, just over fifty lines long, that has been read aloud for about two hundred years. It is older than the light bulb, the telephone, and the airplane, yet families still recite it beside twinkling tree lights. You can probably picture the opening already: a quiet house, stockings hung by the chimney, children dreaming of sugar-plums, and then a clatter of hooves on the roof. The rhythm bounces along like a sleigh over snow, which is one reason people memorize it so easily. That poem is 'A Visit from St. Nicholas,' better known as ''Twas the Night Before Christmas,' and behind its cozy lines hides a puzzle about who wrote it.

That puzzle begins with the poem's first appearance, which was far quieter than its fame would suggest. On December 23, 1823, a newspaper called the Troy Sentinel, in Troy, New York, printed it under the title 'Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas.' No author's name appeared beside it, and newspapers of that era often printed poems without naming the writer. Other newspapers later copied it, and over the following years it traveled from town to town.

Readers who loved the verses wanted to know whom to thank, and in time one name became attached to them: Clement Clarke Moore. Moore was a scholar who taught languages and literature at a seminary in New York City, which makes his playful, galloping rhyme a bit of a surprise. According to family tradition, he first wrote the poem for his own children. In 1844, he placed it in a book of his own poems, and his name has been linked to it ever since.

Moore's name in a book, however, did not close the case. Descendants of Henry Livingston Jr., a poet from New York's Hudson Valley, have long said that he wrote the poem years before 1823 and read it to his children. Supporters of each man point to different evidence, such as family memories, early copies, and each poet's other writing. Experts still disagree, so the fairest way to tell the story is to lay out both claims. It is a good lesson in weighing evidence: a family's memory is worth hearing, but historians prefer records made at the time.

Records aside, the poem's own words left a lasting mark on how people picture the night before Christmas. Earlier stories about St. Nicholas, a Christian bishop remembered for his generosity, varied from place to place, and in Dutch tradition Sinterklaas was said to ride a horse across the rooftops. The poem gave the visitor a small sleigh that lands on the roof, pulled by 'eight tiny reindeer.' It even named them: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donder, and Blitzen, and the last two echo old Dutch and German words for thunder and lightning. Rudolph is missing from that list because he did not appear until 1939, more than a century later, in a story by Robert L. May.

Rudolph's arrival shows that the poem left room for new storytellers, and families make room for it in their own traditions, too. Many read it aloud on Christmas Eve, passing the book from person to person so everyone gets a turn. For Christians, that evening leads into the celebration of the birth of Jesus, and for many other families it is a beloved winter custom. Not bad for a poem that first slipped into a newspaper without a single name attached.

On December 23, 1823, readers of the Troy Sentinel, a newspaper in upstate New York, turned a page and found a poem with no author's name attached. Its title was "Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas," and it opened on a hushed house where not even a mouse was stirring. Then came the clatter of hooves on the roof, a tiny sleigh, and a plump visitor who slipped down the chimney with a sack of toys. The poem runs only 56 lines, but its bouncing rhythm gallops along like a sleigh skimming over snow. Could something so short really change how people picture a holiday? Keep that question in mind, because the poem's own history turns out to be as puzzling as a detective story.

The biggest puzzle, of course, was that missing name, and it stayed missing for well over a decade. In 1837, an anthology called The New-York Book of Poetry printed the poem and credited it to Clement Clarke Moore, a professor of Greek and Oriental literature in New York City. Family tradition holds that Moore wrote it for his own children on Christmas Eve in 1822, and he included it in a collection of his poems in 1844. Some accounts say he hesitated to claim it because a serious scholar might look silly signing his name to a playful verse about reindeer. Moore's name is still on the map, too: the Manhattan neighborhood of Chelsea grew from land that his family owned.

A poem this beloved was bound to attract a rival claim, and it arrived from a family in the Hudson Valley. Henry Livingston Jr., a landowner and hobby poet who died in 1828, was said by his descendants to have written the verses years before 1823 and to have read them aloud to his children. For a long time this was only a family story, and few outsiders took it seriously. That changed in 2000, when the scholar Donald Foster compared word choices and rhythms across many texts and argued that the poem matched Livingston's writing better than Moore's. Livingston, he pointed out, often used the same galloping meter and cheerful tone, while Moore's other known poems were usually more solemn.

Notice that each side builds its case from a different kind of evidence. Moore's supporters point to the fact that he publicly accepted the poem, printed it in his own book, and wrote out copies by hand. Livingston's supporters rely largely on family memories written down after his death, plus Foster's comparison of style. Critics answer that style is slippery evidence, since many writers of the era used the same bouncy rhythm, and that memories recorded decades later are harder to trust than papers from the time. Historians remain divided, and many editions still credit Moore while others mention Livingston as a possibility. Whatever the verdict, no one disputes what the poem itself accomplished.

That accomplishment began with a makeover for St. Nicholas. The original St. Nicholas was a Christian bishop of the fourth century, remembered for his generosity, and for centuries his December 6 feast day inspired stories and gift-giving customs. In 1809, Washington Irving had already pictured him riding over treetops in a wagon, but the poem added a "miniature sleigh," a rooftop landing, and eight named reindeer. Those names first appeared as Dunder and Blixem, which became Donder and Blitzen in later versions. The poem's "right jolly old elf" has a round belly and twinkling eyes, a far friendlier picture than the stern bishops of older religious art. Rudolph, created by Robert L. May in 1939, came more than a century later.

Rudolph arrived late, yet the original eight still hold their places, partly thanks to a Christmas Eve habit. Families began gathering to read the poem aloud, and in popular use its title shifted to "The Night Before Christmas," borrowed from its first line. The rhythm explains why it works so well aloud, since the beat carries a reader from line to line like a runner picking up speed. Illustrated editions soon followed, and artists such as Thomas Nast, who began drawing Santa Claus for Harper's Weekly in the 1860s, added pictures that matched the poem's details. Not bad for a poem that first stepped into the world without even a name signed to it.