Staff Writer Sydney recounts one fateful Christmas Eve, where the Ivies came together for their annual family reunion and gift exchange.

Twas the night before Christmas and all through Prezbo’s mansion, 

Columbia was reading Greek poets and doing some scantion. 

The stockings were hung by Barnard with care 

awaiting the Ivies that would soon be there. 

The first to arrive was Princeton, looking quite smart,

He waited in the foyer admiring Prezbo’s obnoxious art. 

The present he brought was quite apropo

He promptly put it under the tree after brushing off the snow. 

The gift in question was a gold plated plaque 

And on it, engraved said, “give us our mascot back.”

Next through the door coming in from the cold, 

In a Canada Goose jacket, a sight to behold

Was none other than Dartmouth and some dude named Chad,

And from the looks of it their hangovers were pretty bad.

They lugged in their gift which caused them much strain;

A sleek silver keg which had already been drained.

Outside the grand windows, snow was really coming down

And at a quarter past party time, in wandered Brown. 

With a messy bun, thrifted coat and crocheted bag 

They took one look under the tree and withheld a gag.

Their gift was no product of privilege and greed

But rather the product of their inner artist being freed.

A small, modern sculpture; a much welcome addition

That represented the many facets of the human condition.

Donning cufflinks and a respectable suit,

Coming in after a long commute,

was none other than Penn, with unparalleled charm

Making sharp and snide comments, with particular smarm.

Penn’s gift was no true sight to behold 

But rather, in their words, innovative, pragmatic and bold.

In an envelope labeled “Wharton” was a bundle tied up with string,

They were shares for a new company, that was sure to be “the next big thing.”

Through Connecticut’s snow, sleet and hail, came none other than everyone’s favorite, Yale.

She sauntered in with pearls and a sweater tied about her neck,

Upon everyone’s cheek she laid a dainty peck.

Her hair was quite kept and outfit quite clean

Out of all of those there, she was the most pristine.

While everyone chattered away with the occasional guffaw,

Yale kept quiet since she couldn’t untighten her jaw. 

Instead she placed her gift under the tree 

It was a house at Martha’s Vineyard, and in the box was the key.

A loud honk and engine roar disrupted the soiree,

Harvard waltzed through the door, to everyone’s dismay.

He barked into his bluetooth, and smirked with glee

Sat down at the table, and said “happy to see me?”

The rest either huffed or rolled their eyes

For out of everyone present, Harvard was the most despised.

His gift, he thought, was the greatest of favors

A plaque that was done by the best of engravers. 

And to make it more grand, it had quite a bit of gilding.

No surprise, it was a dedication for Harvard’s newest building.

After the commotion of all the guests coming in,

Columbia sat down at the table, ready to begin

This grand gift exchange which he thought was quite clever,

And he smiled with glee seeing all the Ivies together. 

Yet his gift, to him, had no competition

Twas a set of Western Canon classics in perfect condition. 

Barnard sat beside him, with poise and with grace

Her handmade wire earrings of a woman’s face 

Were sure to please as they were true works of art

And more importantly, she thought, they came from the heart. 

Just as everyone raised their glass for a toast,

A large thud was heard in the hall. Was it a ghost?

No, not a phantom, but a flustered Cornell,

Who yelled “Sorry, I’m late, I slipped on the ice and fell.”

The rest gave a groan and collectively rolled their eyes

At this point, this wasn’t a surprise

For it happened every year, Cornell was the last,

Fitting as he was the Ivy’s outcast. 

He pulled up a folding chair, as he couldn’t find space

And squeezed next to Barnard, with red filling his face.

He put his gift on the table and let out a large sigh,

“Hotel mints and mini soap?” they asked, Cornell nodded, knowing he couldn’t lie.

“The best of the best,” Cornell said with a smirk.

Everyone laughed, and Cornell pouted, “You’re all such jerks!”

The night passed on as merrily they ate,

With mass quantities of alcohol inspriring plenty of rousing debate,

About finance, philosophy and who was most well endowed

Garnering complaints from their neighbors that they were being too loud.

The feast had gone over like all other years

With witty jabs and jokes, and Cornell ending up tears.

The soiree continued ‘til dawn’s early light,

With Columbia proclaiming, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

Gifts via Bwog Archives