The Night Before Christmas

Bauhaus Sleigh

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Twas the night before Christmas, when all throughout bauhaus

Not a computer was stirring, not even a wireless mouse.

The iPads were docked by their iPhones with care,

In hopes that Ron Welch would announce, “Jeans you may wear!”

The sales team was nestled all snug in their Generation chairs,

While visions of end-of-year numbers buzzed excitedly in the air.

Mark Boothby happily sent the sales team home clapping,

As the design team sat patiently, only the sound of fingers tapping.

When out on Oak Lawn there arose such a clatter,

Beth Anderson sprang from her workstation to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door she flew like a flash,

Through open the glass and held on to her sash.


The traffic on I-35 had come to a screeching halt,

Each driver looking around to see what was at fault.

When what to our wondering eyes did we see,

But a Barcelona chair and eight modern reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and droll,

We knew in a moment it must be Hans Knoll.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!


“Now! Now, Mies! Now, Pollock and Breuer!

On, Saarinen! On, Bertoia! On, Lovegrove and Platner!

To the top of The Moth! To the top of Market Hall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”


As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So up to the Margaret Hill Hunt Bridge they flew,

With the sleigh full of mini Womb chairs, and Hans Knoll too.


And then, in a twinkling, Beth heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As she drew in her head, and was turning around,

Down the skylight Hans came; he came with a bound.


He was dressed all in tweed, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were pristine, amazingly void of smog and soot.

A bundle of modern furniture he had flung on his back,

And he looked surprisingly like Jay Hefner, just opening his pack.


Jay Hefner as Hans Knoll


His eyes-how they twinkled! His faced flushed and merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His smiling mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And his five o’clock shadow was as white as the snow.


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the KnollExtra accessories, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the skylight he rose!


He sprang to his Barcelona, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But we heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!”