I dreamed I was supposed to help with the Christmas program for sacrament meeting. I had wanted to tell a story of a family opening gifts on Christmas morning, and each “gift” they opened was the next part of our program, but the narrator took one look at the “script” and said, “I’m not reading that.”

[I believe it included an entirely fictitious story, in the same vane as Small One or Little Drummer Boy, so I couldn’t blame him.]

I thought and thought about what was true and what was already right there in the nativity story.

So I went back to work on it and told Merrill I wanted it to be everything we love about Christmas. He surmised, “So you want the whole enchilada.”

That was it! It was almost like the dews of heaven had distilled upon my soul. The words flowed into my mind:

“I wanna enchilada for Christmas!

Only an enchilada will do.

I don’t want no taco, Mama,

Or greasy empanada.

All I want for Christmas is a chicken enchilada.

I can smell it now on Christmas morning, wafting up the stairs…” *

Pure poetry.

…………………………….

*to the tune of “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”