Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the ward
All the patients were sleeping, except Mrs. Ford.
Her breathing was raspy; her lips were quite blue,
And student nurse Winifred Crabb's worry grew.
She begged Staff Nurse Fluff to see what was the matter.
Veronica Fluff only wanted to chatter
With house doctor Bruce at the door of the sluice.
It was then that the old lady's face turned deep puce.
So Winnie sped off and fetched Night Sister Brown
Who checked Mrs. Ford and declared with a frown
That a doctor was needed and needed right quickly
To treat the poor woman who now was so sickly.
Bruce Handsy was useless and said “Get the chief!
I don't know enough!  I can't offer relief!”
The sister and student nurse helped Mrs. Ford
While Bruce and Veronica sent out the word.
Sir Doelin was phoned and he said with a sigh
That he'd hurry along, “Just don't let her die!”

The glare from the light over Mrs. Ford's bed
Made the old lady look to be already dead.
But her heart was still beating and Winnie took hope
That her two years of training would help her to cope.
The doors at the end of the ward flew apart,
The hospital's medical chief looking smart!
And who should appear alongside good Sir Doelin
but Visiting Prof from den Haag, Reiloff Molen.
His blue eyes were icy, his nose was imperious,
He was tall; he was vast; Winnie Crabb felt delirious.
He'd stolen her heart with one hard, steely glance,
But Winnie knew plain, mousy girls had no chance
To marry at all, let alone wed rich doctors.
She would hide her emotions so no one could mock her.

Mrs. Ford soon recovered; the men went away,
Nurse Fluff chided Winnie for dropping a tray.
“You're a terrible nurse, so you might as well quit!
You're slow, and you're clumsy, you're such a dimwit!”
Winnie finished her shift and she walked down the hall.
She cried and she tripped and she took a great fall.
Two arms scooped her up, set her standing upright.
It was vast Dr. Moelen who'd helped in the night.

“Let's go have some breakfast and make a few plans.
You're the right girl for me so lets publish the banns.”
“I've read Betty Neels and I think you're proposing
A union of friends  - with no love, I'm supposing?”
“If you think I want marriage that's only platonic
Then, pray, think again,” and his look was sardonic.
“You don't even know me.  I'm homely, I'm plain.
My clothes are appalling; my talk is mundane.”
“My dear, you're delightful; you look like my mother;
And now that I've found you, there can't be another.”
He ushered her into his gleaming, black Bentley
And fastened her seat belt while kissing her gently.
They drove through the streets on that grey Christmas morning
With hearts full of happiness, passion and longing.