‘Twas the day before siding the volunteers grunt, every servant was stirring except Brad Hunt. The soffit was hung by Hucke with care, in hopes that a siding crew would soon be there. Brad was nestled all snug in his truck, with visions of chocolate ice cream seeping from the ducts. Roy in his overalls and I in my beard, had just settled our brains after talking to Markie who’s weird. When out of the house arose such a clatter, I sprang from my car to see what’s a matter. When what to my wondering eye did appear, George Link and his coffee all over Stokke’s gear. They wrestled around like Tyson and Jones, while the others stood recording on their smart phones. This build is not perfect, nor the volunteers who work, but one thing is certain, here the Holy Spirit lurks. Merry Christmas from Hamburg!