Monday, 24 December 2018

Xmas


Father Christmas wriggled as much as he could, despite being jammed into the smallest chimney he’d ever experienced in all his years. He was, thankfully, grateful for the special fairy dust borrowed from the pixies. He could shrink, then expand, with but a thought. Wriggling again, finally feeling himself fall, he felt his feet hit the bottom. Brushing away the soot, from his face, he crawled from within the fireplace and coughed a few times. This was, as usual, hard work but the clock ticked and he had a deadline.

From his pocket he produced a small tin and, once opened then placed onto the floor, a hundred ants crawled forward to find all of the random bits of soot spread across the room. Santa, of course, couldn't leave any proof or mess wherever he went. The Ants, once finished, hurried at the thought of appearing on Santa’s ‘naughty’ list. Finally, all returning to the tin, Santa started to chuckle, noticing that the last ant had managed to secure a nice amount of mince pie.

Looking around the room, locating the tree, Santa pulled the string that was attached to the full satchel on the roof. With a small amount of noise, a bang here, a smash there, the satchel landed onto his outstretched hands and he set to work. He had his list, his ever-secretive notes sent from parents all across the land, with this very house being at the top of the list.

He looked at his notes, not understanding why this house was special, but he knew that he’d find out why, as well as how, soon enough. Taking a step forward he paused, closing his eyes, knowing that he’d been seen. Opening one eye, slowly looking to his side, he noticed a small girl sitting on the chair. He swiftly turned, placing a finger to across his lips, “Shhhh, you never saw me!” but that motion was short lived as he noticed her tears. Solemn tears, truthful tears, the real tears of a child.

Sitting on the floor, crossing his legs, Santa smiled the gentlest smile he could find, “What’s wrong my Child?” he asked with warmth within every word. The tears kept on flowing, moving from her sad eyes, as she found the bravest part of herself to reply,
“I'm sad as there’s people out there without a Mummy, or Daddy!”
Santa, realising that this was why this house sat at the top of the list, replied, 
“My child, life is a beautiful thing, with moments of great sadness, overcome by the people that love us and care for us. Even a person with no Mommy, or Daddy, can do ‘one’ thing to make everything special again!”


The child, rubbing her eyes, titled her head ever so slightly, wondering what Santa would say next.
“You see, each of us, all of us, are given the gift of an imagination. Each time you close your eyes, you can dream of snow, reindeer, presents, your Mummy and Daddy holding your hand and more. As long as each person has a heart, which they do, they’ll never be alone. Ever. Now… isn't it time you took yourself back to bed?”


The child nodded, sleep filled eyes struggling to stay open, as she hopped off the chair. Hugging Santa, pointing towards the mince pies and milk, over in the corner, she walked up the stairs and away from Santa. He smiled. He truly, from within his heart, smiled at the innocence that existed within the world. A young heart, a pure heart, that cared for everyone and everything, was truly something to love within the world.

Santa shook his head, realising that time waited for no person, man or woman, within the world he inhabited. Rushing, finding the various presents and items within the satchel, he placed them under the tree and pressed the magic buzzer. As he shrank, the string whisking him up the chimney, he ticked the list and placed a star next to the house and occupant name. Maybe, just maybe, this small person, would one day get to visit the greatest place within the world… Love from all.


Happy Christmas xx

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