‘Twas the night before Christmas,
When all through the residential unit,
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a panda;

The stockings were hung
By the portable heating unit with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas
Soon would find his way to #89 Area A Building #10 Unit 2;

The daughter was nestled
All snug in her crib,
While visions of milk powder
Danced in her head;

And Liu Liu in her kerchief,
And I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains
For a quick four hour snooze—
Because there’s no Christmas in China,
And we both have to work tomorrow.