Holiday Tails. I Mean Tales.

Many moons ago, I taught sixth-grade language arts in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia, and most of my students had deep drawls. Their Southern accents often challenged this Connecticut Yankee’s ear and, even more often, impacted their reading and writing skills.

One day, a student—let’s call her Pam—proudly submitted a narrative writing assignment and stood by my side to make sure I read her paper first. I did my best to hide my struggle, but to little avail.

“Pam, help me out here. What is this word?”

She looked at me like I needed remediation classes. “Win. Y’know, like ‘win are we goin’?’”

“Oh!” I said. “You mean ‘when.’”

“Yeah. Like I said. ‘Win.’” 

She wrote it the way she heard it and spoke it every day of her life. I tried explaining the difference between the words when and win, sounding them out and acting out each with dramatic exaggeration. After several attempts at differentiating the two, she looked at me with that look we teachers live for: the lightbulb-of-learning click!

“I get it!” Pam shouted with excitement. “It’s like those homonyms we learned in elementary school! Words that sound the same but mean different things! Thank you, Miss!”

Pam Was Mostly Right

Pam’s definition of homonyms was spot on. Homonyms are words that sound alike and are usually spelled differently and always mean different things. And, yes, Pam, we do learn them in elementary school. However, when and win are not homonyms, just unintentional victims of a regional accent.

Holiday Homonyms

With a nod to Pam, I offer you a gift intended to bring you a smile: a favorite holiday poem strewn with homonyms. Post how many you find on the NancyProofed FB page. There might be a surprise for the one who gets the most write. I mean, rite. No, right. (By the way, the punctuation is correct, as per the original in the December 23, 1823, publication of The Sentinel in Troy, New York.)

Happy Holidays, Joyeux Noel, and Merry New Year!

A Visit from St. Nicholas

with apologies to

Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the knight before Christmas and awl threw the house Knot a creature was stirring, knot even a mouse; The stockings whirr hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be their;

The children were nestled awl snug inn there beds; Wile visions of sugar-plums danced inn they’re heads; And Mama inn her ‘kerchief, and eye inn my cap, Had just settled hour brains four a long winter’s knap,

Win out on the lawn they’re a rose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to sea watt was the matter. Aweigh two the window I flu like a flash, Tour open the shutters and through up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the knew-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day too objects below, Win, watt to my wondering I’s should appear, Butt a miniature slay, and ate tiny rain-dear,

With a little old driver, sew lively and quick, I new in a moment he must bee St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them buy name:

“Now, Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donder and Blitzen! Two the top of the porch! too the top of the wall! Now dash aweigh! dash aweigh! dash aweigh awl!”

As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
Win they meat with an obstacle, mount too the sky,
So up two the house-top the coursers they flue
With the slay full of toys, and St. Nicholas to—

And then, inn a twinkling, I herd on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with abound.

He was dressed awl in fir, from his head too his foot,
And his clothes were awl tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His I’s – how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks whir like roses, his knows like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a beau,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreathe;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, win he laughed like a boll full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a rite jolly auld elf,
And aye laughed when aye saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his I and a twist of his head
Soon gave me too no I had nothing too dread;

He spoke knot a whirred, butt went strait to his work,
And filled awl the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his knows,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang too his slay, two his teem gave a whistle,
And aweigh they all flue like the down of a thistle.
Butt aye herd him exclaim, err he drove out of cite—
HAPPY CHRISTMAS TWO AWL, AND TOO AWL A GOOD NIGHT!