The Shoup's arrive with falling snow, Through whirling winds, their laughter flows. They come with empty hands yet full of cheer, To share a season held so dear. The table groans with festive spread, As stories pour and wine is shed. Their presence, though without a gift, Turns hearts and spirits on a lift. For in the cozy warmth, we find, It's not the things but love that binds. Though freeloading as they may seem, Their company fulfills the dream. So let them come, the freeloading kin, For Christmas dwells, not in what's given, But in the moments bright and clear, We cherish through another year.