Church Stewardship & Tithing Report

Don’t forget to scroll down to the bottom for the opportunity to create your very own St. Pimp!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through God’s house

Not a person was stirring, not even a mouse;

The wallets were hung by the pulpit with care,

In hopes that St. Pimp soon would be there;

The people were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of prosperity danced in their heads;

And mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a private jet, and eight tiny pimp-deer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Pimp.

More cunning than vipers his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, White! now, Dollar! now, Long and Hinn!

On, Copeland! on Crouch! on, Jakes and Prince!

To the top of the Steeple! to the top of the wall!

Now pimp away! pimp away! pimp away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the coffers full of wealth, and St. Pimp too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The pimping and prancing of each pimps hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St. Pimp came with a bound.

He was dressed all in Armani, from his head to his shoe,

And his clothes were all garnished with diamonds too;

A bundle of cash he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pimp just opening his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the diamonds on his cuff were as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

As his ego encircled his head like a wreath;

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook, as he pimped like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know this is something to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,

And pimped all the people; then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his sleigh, to his pimp-deer gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

“Happy Pimping to all, and to all a good-night.”