origin of the '12 Days of Christmas' with its lists of improbable gifts is purported to be a device to help 16th and 17th century Catholics in England to secretly learn some of the numbers associated with aspects of their faith. (Roman Catholics were not allowed to practice their faith in England from 1558-1829. It was a crime to be a Catholic, punishable by death.) The original code of the carol is unknown to most current Christians, but the song remains like a cheerful Christmas nursery rhyme. Here's what 'Leaping Lords' and 'Milking Maids' were really all about.
click to play an mp3 clip of Twelve Days
with the Stanford Chamber Chorale
while you read the page
The song goes,
"On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me..."
The "true love" represents God and the "me" who receives these presents is the
Christian.
The "partridge in a pear tree" was Jesus Christ who died on a tree as a gift
from God.
The "two turtle doves" were the Old and New Testaments -- another gift from
God.
The "three French hens" were faith hope and love -- the three gifts of the
Spirit that abide (I Corinthians 13).
The "four calling birds" were the four Gospels which sing the song of
salvation through Jesus Christ.
The "five golden rings" were the first five books of the Bible also called
the "Books of Moses."
The "six geese a-laying" were the six days of creation.
The "seven swans a swimming" were "seven gifts of the Holy Spirit." (I
Corinthians 12:8-11, Romans 12, Ephesians 4, 1 Peter 4:10-11)
The "eight maids a milking" were the eight beatitudes.
The "nine ladies dancing" were nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. (Galatians
5:22-23)
The "ten lords a-leaping" were the Ten Commandments.
The "eleven pipers piping" were the eleven faithful disciples.
The "twelve drummers drumming" were the twelve points of the Apostles' Creed.
The best thing about the '12 Days of Christmas' is that it lends itself to parodies, some of which we have included for your holiday enjoyment.
The Twelve Thank-you Notes 
author unknown
December 25
My dearest darling Edward,
What a wonderful surprise has just greeted me! That sweet partridge, in that lovely little pear-tree; what an enchanting, romantic, poetic present! Bless you, and thank
you.
Your deeply loving, Emily
December 26
Beloved Edward,
The two turtle-doves arrived this morning, and are cooing away in the pear-tree as I write. I'm so touched and grateful!
With undying love, as always, Emily
December 27
My darling Edward,
You do think of the most original presents! Who ever thought of sending anybody three French hens? Do they really come all the way from France? It's a pity we have no chicken coops, but I expect we'll find some. Anyway, thankyou so much; they're lovely.
Your devoted, Emily
December 28
Dearest Edward,
What a surprise! Four calling birds arrived this morning. They are very sweet, even if they do call rather loudly -- they make telephoning almost impossible - but I expect they'll calm down when they get used to their new home. Anyway, I'm very grateful, of course I am.
Love from Emily
December 29
Dearest Edward,
The mailman has just delivered five most beautiful gold rings, one for each finger, and all fitting perfectly! A really lovely present! Lovelier, in a way, than birds, which do take rather a lot of looking after. The four that arrived yesterday are still making a terrible row, and I'm afraid none of us got much sleep last night. Mother says she wants to use the rings to "wring" their necks. Mother has such a sense of humor. This time she's only joking, I think, but I do know what she means. Still, I love the rings.
Bless you, Emily
December 30
Dear Edward,
Whatever I expected to find when I opened the front door this morning, it certainly wasn't six socking great geese laying eggs all over the porch. Frankly, I rather hoped that you had stopped sending me birds. We have no room for them, and they've already ruined the croquet lawn. I know you meant well, but let's call a halt, shall we?
Love, Emily
December 31
Edward,
I thought I said NO MORE BIRDS. This morning I woke up to find no more than seven swans, all trying to get into our tiny goldfish pond. I'd rather not think what's happened to the goldfish. The whole house seems to be full of birds, to say nothing of what they leave behind them, so please, please, stop!
Your Emily
January 1
Frankly, I prefer the birds. What am I to do
with eight milkmaids? And their cows! Is this some kind of a joke? If
so, I'm afraid I don't find it very amusing.
Emily
January 2
Look here, Edward,
This has gone far enough. You say you're sending me nine ladies dancing. All I can say is, judging from the way they dance, they're certainly not ladies. The village just isn't accustomed to seeing a regiment of shameless viragos, with nothing on but their lipstick, cavorting round the green, and it's Mother and I who get the blame. If you value our friendship, which I do (less and less), kindly stop this ridiculous behavior at once!
Emily
January 3
As I write this letter, ten disgusting old men
are prancing up and down all over what used to be the garden, before the geese and the swans and the cows got at it. And several of them, I have just noticed, are taking inexcusable liberties with the milkmaids. Meanwhile the neighbors are trying to have us evicted. I shall never speak to you again.
Emily
January 4
This is the last straw! You know I detest
bagpipes! The place has now become something between a menagerie and a madhouse, and a man from the council has just declared it unfit for habitation. At least Mother has been spared this last outrage; they took her away yesterday afternoon in an ambulance to a home for the bewildered. I hope you're satisfied.
January 5
Sir,
Our client, Miss Emily Wilbraham, instructs me to inform you that with the arrival on her premises at 7:30 this morning of the entire percussion section of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and several of their friends, she has no course left open to
her but to seek an injunction to prevent you importuning her further. I am making arrangements for the return of much assorted livestock.
I am, Sir, yours faithfully,
G. Creep, Attorney at law
The 12 Days of Christmas Cutbacks
Effective immediately, the following economizing measures are being implemented in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" subsidiary:
- The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never produced the
cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing
considerable savings in maintenance;
- Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective.
In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions
are, therefore, eliminated;
- The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French;
- The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice mail system,
with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have
been calling, how often and how long they talked;
- The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors.
Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications
for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals, as well
as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks, appear to be in order;
- The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded.
It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day was an
example of the general decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an
upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that, from
now on, every goose it gets will be a good one;
- The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The
function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order. The current swans
will be retrained to learn some new strokes, thereby enhancing their outplacement;
- As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny
by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant
maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process
may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;
- Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased
out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps;
- Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus the expense of
international air travel, prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing
this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat
sacrificed, the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of unemployed
congressmen this year;
- Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band
getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no
uniforms, will produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line.
Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and
related expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over
twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved.
Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association seeking expansion to include
the legal profession ("thirteen lawyers-a-suing"), a decision is pending.
Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive. Should that happen,
the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Division to see if seven
dwarfs is the right number.
The Politically Correct 12 Days of Christmas
On the 12th day of the globally imposed midwinter festival, my potential soulmate of unspecified gender gave to me:
- Twelve males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming.
- Eleven pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note...)
- Ten melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
- Nine persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
- Eight economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from captive bovines of the same gender,
- Seven endangered swans swimming on protected wetlands,
- Six enslaved fowls producing stolen nonhuman animal products,
- Five golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
Note: after member of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further animal enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.
- Four hours of recorded whale songs,
- Three deconstructionist poets,
- Two Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses
- And an Animal Rights activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
Who made Santa Red?
Claim: The modern image of Santa Claus - a jolly figure in a red-and-white suit - was created by Coca-Cola.
Status: False.
The jolly old St. Nick that we know from countless images did not come from folklore, nor did he originate in the imaginations of Moore and Nast. He comes from the yearly advertisements of the Coca-Cola Company. He wears the corporate colors - the famous red and white-for a reason: he is working out of Atlanta, not out of the North Pole.
Origins: Santa Claus is perhaps the most remarkable of all the figures associated with Christmas. To us, Santa has always been an essential part of the Christmas celebration, but the modern image of Santa didn't develop until well into the 19th century. 
Moreover, he didn't spring to life fully-formed as a literary creation or a commercial invention (as did his famous reindeer, Rudolph). Santa Claus was an evolutionary creation, brought about by the fusion of two religious personages (St. Nicholas and Christkindlein, the Christ child) to become a fixed image which is now the paramount symbol of the secular Christmas celebration.
In 1804, the New York Historical Society was founded with Nicholas as its patron saint, its members reviving the Dutch tradition of St. Nicholas as a gift-bringer. In 1809, Washington Irving published his satirical A History of New York, by one "Diedrich Knickerbocker," a work that poked fun at New York's Dutch past 
(St. Nicholas included). When Irving became a member of the Society the following year, the annual St. Nicholas Day dinner festivities included a woodcut of the traditional Nicholas figure (tall, with long robes) accompanied by a Dutch rhyme about "Sancte Claus" (in Dutch, "Sinterklaas"). Irving revised his History of New York in 1812, adding details about Nicholas' "riding over the tops of the trees, in that selfsame waggon wherein he brings his yearly presents to children." In 1821, a New York printer named William Gilley issued a poem about a "Santeclaus" who dressed all in fur and drove a sleigh pulled by one reindeer. Gilley's "Sante," however, was very short.
On Christmas Eve of 1822, another New Yorker, Clement Clarke Moore, wrote down and read to his children a series of verses; his poem was published a year later as "An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas"
(more commonly known today by its opening line, "Twas the night before Christmas . . ."). Moore gave St. Nick eight reindeer (and named them all), and he devised the now-familiar entrance by chimney. Moore's Nicholas was still a small figure, however - the poem describes a "miniature sleigh" with a "little old driver."
Meanwhile, in parts of Europe such as Germany, Nicholas the gift-giver had been superseded by a representation of the infant Jesus (the Christ child, or "Christkindlein"). The Christkindlein accompanied Nicholas-like figures with other names (such as "Pere Noel" in France), or he travelled with a dwarf-like helper (known in some places as "Pelznickel," or Nicholas with furs). Belsnickle (as Pelznickel was known in the German-American dialect of Pennsylvania) was represented by adults who dressed in furry disguises (including false whiskers), visited while children were still awake, and put on a scary performance. Gifts found by children the next morning were credited to Christkindlein, who had come while everyone was asleep. Over time, the non-visible Christkindlein (whose name mutated into "Kriss Kringle") was overshadowed by the visible Belsnickle, and both of them became confused with St. Nicholas and the emerging figure of Santa Claus.
The modern Santa Claus derived from these two images: St. Nicholas the elf-like gift bringer described by Moore, and a friendlier "Kriss Kringle" amalgam of the Christkindlein and Pelznickel figures. The man-sized version of Santa became the dominant image around 1841, when a Philadelphia merchant named J.W. Parkinson hired a man to dress in "Criscringle" clothing and climb the chimney outside his shop.
In 1863, a caricaturist for Harper's Weekly named Thomas Nast began developing his own image of Santa. Nast gave his figure a "flowing set of whiskers" and dressed him "all in fur, from his head to his foot." Nast's 1866 montage entitled "Santa Claus and His Works" established Santa as a maker of toys; an 1869 book of the same name collected new Nast drawings with a poem by George P. Webster that identified the North Pole as Santa's home. Although Nast never settled on one size for his Santa figures (they ranged from elf-like to man-sized), his 1881 "Merry Old Santa Claus" drawing is quite close to the modern-day image.
The Santa Claus figure, although not yet standardized, was ubiquitous by the late 19th century. Santa was portrayed as both large and small; he was usually round but sometimes of normal or slight build; and he dressed in furs (like Belsnickle) or cloth suits of red, blue, green, or purple. A Boston printer named Louis Prang introduced the English custom of Christmas cards to America, and in 1885 he issued a card featuring a red-suited Santa. The chubby 
Santa with a red suit (like an "overweight superhero") began to replace the fur-dressed Belsnickle image and the multicolored Santas.
At the beginning of the 1930s, the burgeoning Coca-Cola company was still looking for ways to increase sales of their product during winter, then a slow time of year for the soft drink market. They turned to a talented commercial illustrator named Haddon Sundblom, who created a series of memorable drawings that associated the figure of a larger than life, red-and-white garbed Santa Claus with Coca-Cola. Coke's annual advertisements - featuring Sundblom-drawn Santas holding bottles of Coca-Cola, drinking Coca-Cola, receiving Coca-Cola as gifts, and especially enjoying Coca-Cola - became a perennial Christmastime feature which helped spur Coca-Cola sales throughout the winter (and produced the bonus effect of appealing quite strongly to children, an important segment of the soft drink market). The success of this advertising campaign has helped fuel the legend that Coca-Cola actually invented the image of the modern Santa Claus, decking him out in a red-and-white suit to promote the company colors - or that at the very least, Coca-Cola chose to promote the red-and-white version of Santa Claus over a variety of competing Santa figures in order to establish it as the accepted image of Santa Claus.
This legend is not true. Although some versions of the Santa Claus figure still had him attired in various colors of outfits past the beginning of the 20th century, the jolly, ruddy, sack-carrying Santa with a red suit and flowing white whiskers had become the standard image of Santa Claus by the 1920s, several years before Sundlom drew his first Santa illustration for Coca-Cola. As The New York Times reported on 27 November 1927:
A standardized Santa Claus appears to New York children. Height, weight, stature are almost exactly standardized, as are the red garments, the hood and the white whiskers. The pack full of toys, ruddy cheeks and nose, bushy eyebrows and a jolly, paunchy effect are also inevitable parts of the requisite make-up.
It's simply mind-boggling that at the beginning the 21st century, historians are still egregiously perpetuating inaccurate information like the following:
So complete was the colonization of Christmas that Coke's Santa had elbowed aside all comers by the 1940s. He was the Santa of the 1947 movie Miracle on 34th Street just as he is the Santa of the recent film The Santa Clause. He is the Santa on Hallmark cards, he is the Santa riding the Norelco shaver each Christmas season, he is the department-store Santa, and he is even the Salvation Army Santa!
As we just pointed out above, the modern Santa had "elbowed aside all comers" long before the 1940s, and well before Coca-Cola co-opted him as their wintertime advertising symbol. And we're at a loss to understand how anyone could have recognized the Santa of Miracle on 34th Street, a BLACK-AND-WHITE film, as the red-and-white Coca-Cola Santa.
All this isn't to say that Coca-Cola didn't have anything to do with cementing that image of Santa Claus in the public consciousness. The Santa image may have been standardized before Coca-Cola adopted it for their advertisements, but Coca-Cola had a great deal to do with establishing Santa Claus as a ubiquitous Christmas figure in America at a time when the holiday was still making the transition from a religious observance to a largely secular and highly commercial celebration. In an era before color television (or commercial television of any kind), color films, and the widespread use of color in newspapers, it was Coca-Cola's magazine advertisements, billboards, and point-of-sale store displays that exposed nearly everyone in America to the modern Santa Claus image. Coca-Cola certainly helped make Santa Claus one of the most popular men in America, but they didn't invent him.
The brief truce on Christmas Day 1914, when British and German soldiers emerged from their trenches on the Western Front and played football together in no-man's land, became one of the abiding images of the "war to end all wars." 
The answer was under our noses, or more accurately, under our behinds, as we often sit on fitness balls while keyboarding, researching and speaking on the phone.
strength and stability work-out. You will find them in all the top gyms, fitness clubs and spas and the majority of personal trainers use a fitness ball in some of their work with clients. They are great for core strengthening and can provide the same sort of stumulus as a Pilates work-out.
Well in a Box
Gas stations still serve gas, but they've increasingly become filling stations for humans with aisles piled high with chips, Cheezies, chocolate, chewing gum, Coke, candy and other "convenience" foods. (Ironically, convenience foods often lead to the ultimate inconvenience of carrying massive amounts of extra flesh on your body 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.)
dwelling counterparts. Instead of foraging for berries and wildlife the bears make nocturnal visits to the dumpsters of fast food outlets and don't even bother to hibernate as they have easy access to a year round supply of calories. The pathetically predictable result is that the less active, fast food fed bears are already more than 30% heavier than their rural counterparts and obviously in need of 'beariatric' medicine. I have this vision of overweight, diabetic, coronary bypassed adults creating a 'Save Our Bears' (nice acronym) campaign, oblivious of Gandhi's advice to become the change you wish to see in others, even bears.
