‘Twas the night before REFEDS, when all through the room
Not an assertion was stirring, not even a whom.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the attributes soon would be there.
The fed ops were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of trust frameworks danced in their heads.
And Nicole in her ‘kerchief, and Licia in her cap,
Had just settled their brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the ‘net lawn there arose such a clatter,
They sprang from their beds to see what was the matter.
Away to their laptops they flew like a flash,
Flipped open the display and reviewed the log cache.
The glow of the screen on their night time faces,
Gave the lustre of moon-glow as they did their traces.
When, what to their wondering eyes made some passes,
But a miniature schema, and eight object classes.
With a little old driver, and a two-factor fob,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Bob.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now, ORCID! now, UniqueID! now, Assurance and Affiliation!
On, Entitlement! On, TargetedID! on, ScopedAffiliation and PrincipalName!
To the top of the stack! to the top of the wall!
Now release away! Release away! Release 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 SPs the classes they flew,
With the sleigh full of attributes, and Saint RL Bob too.
And then, in a pinging, they saw in the logs
A joyful encounter for a happier FOG.
As they drew back their heads and started checking the list,
Down the MET feed Saint Bob came with a twist.
He was dressed all in prints, from his head to his feet,
And his clothes were all covered with flour and wheat.
A bundle of attributes he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a hippie, 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 look on his face was as calm as the Tao.
The end of a cable he held tight in his hand,
And the packets encircled his head like a band.
He had a smiling face and a full bag of tricks,
That registered when he typed, like organized f-ticks.
He was happy and calm, a right jolly old elf,
And they laughed when they saw him, in spite of themselves!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave them to know they had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the requests, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, back up the pipe he rose!
He sprang to his schema, to his team 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 REFEDS to all, and to all a good-night!”