T’was the month before year’s-end; the devo department

Was sending appeals to all homes and apartments.

The director was sweating like Richard M. Nixon

For fear that a failure would cause crucifixion.

The ED was clueless and screaming for money

And the board chair was gone, yachting to Bimini.

The donors were asked to contribute all year.

Each month — no each week! — it’s all they could hear.

“Give now” and “Give now” and “Give now” once again.

They were tapped just for money and not for their ken.

When all of a sudden there arouse such a ruckus

A donor had given fifteen thousand buck-us.

The annual giving director said “WHEE!

We’ll hit all our goals!  And they’ll promote me!”

The year-end was saved and Christmas was merry,

Now it’s time to mail the appeal for January.