Advent Calendar 6th December.
The
Spirit of Christmas – Short Story
As the calendar flipped over, the beginning of a new month was
here – the 1st of November. An unremarkable day in most calendars. But head
north, way up in the icy climes of the Arctic circle where the midnight sun
rules the summer months and a never-ending night swallows the winter, and
November holds a more important meaning. As far as the eye can see great planes
of the purest white, only very occasionally punctuated with rocky outcroppings.
Lumbering polar bears roam in search of their next meal.
But look a little closer, in the right place and really know in
your heart what you want to see, and you might just find something more. An
enormous city. Obscured from the sites of those not willing to believe, chalets
and warehouses and workshops dot the landscape, their thoroughfares forming a
twisting, turning maze of alleyways. The streets and alleys were filled with a
sense of joyous industry. Songs filled the air, as throngs of little people,
elves to be exact, went to and fro about their festive business. This, after
all, is the home of Santa Claus, the North Pole.
The workshops began ramping up production, the sound of hammers
and saws and sandpaper growing louder as the fabled workshops of the North Pole
sprang back to full capacity, eager to help make the approaching festive season
merry and bright. There was something to tantalise the senses at every turn.
The strains of jolly festive songs could be heard at every turn; smells of
gingerbread, eggnog and the spicy scent of cinnamon drifted on the cold arctic
breeze; Brightly coloured clothes and twinkling rainbow-hued fairy lights
abound.
It may be the first day of November, a day of no consequence for
most, but here in the most northern territory in the world, it was one of the
most important days of the year. It heralded the start of preparations for the
coming Christmas holidays. Inside the workshops the elves busied themselves
preparing toys ahead of the biggest day of the year. Santa Claus himself,
however, was nowhere to be seen. Oh no, he would be holed up in his house, busy
reading.
***
Sat comfortably in his favourite rocking chair, beside a roaring
fire with a steaming mug of hot chocolate in hand, Santa perched his small,
wire-rimmed reading glasses on his rosy red nose. His longest-serving elf, and
frankly his closest friend, Alabaster Snowball knocked on the door before Mrs
Claus bade him entry.
“Ahhh Alabaster! How wonderful to see you! You have the lists?”
Santa boomed with delight.
“I’ve arranged for them to be brought straight up, Sir. They
will be here any moment” he replied, taken a seat on the other side of the
fireplace.
“Come, now, Alabaster. How long have we known one another?” the
old man with the flowing white beard chided.
“Why, these last 300 years. 301 this year, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Of course you’re not mistaken, Alabaster! So must I repeat, for
the three-hundred and first time; do not call me Sir? For I am most definitely
not your superior, I am your friend.”
“Forgive me, Sir, Nicholas. Your predecessor was somewhat less
genial than you.”
“That’s better, old friend. There’s nothing to forgive! Now, how
do the lists look this year?”
“The Nice List is up 40% this year. Population growth has contributed, so we workshops are working overtime to increase output.”
“The Nice List is up 40% this year. Population growth has contributed, so we workshops are working overtime to increase output.”
“That is wonderful news!”
“Sadly though, the Naughty List has also grown. It’s biggest
growth yet – 57% on last year.”
Nicholas looked ponderously into the fire, a troubled look
clouded over his face. “What is happening in the world? Why is the Naughty List
growing so much?”
***
Santa could not sleep. No amount of sugar plums dancing in his
head would help him this night. He sat in his oldest workshop, barely used
anymore. This was once the heart of Christmas in the North Pole. Wooden cars,
little dolls and brightly coloured toys would be assembled and painted by the
skilled hands of teams of elves. From here enormous red sacks were filled and
loaded upon the sleigh ready to be delivered to excited girls and boys all over
the world.
Sadly this had diminished over the years. Children wanted
bigger, more complicated presents. Gone were the days where a little boy would
eagerly await Christmas morning where he would run to the tree to find a
brightly coloured toy car. No more were the letters where little girls asked
for a horse, but would be just as happy with a sweet little doll. Now all they
wanted were gadgets. Digital screens, and flashing lights and electronic
noises.
All of this had troubled Santa of late, but now the sudden surge
in names on the naughty list – that was a real concern. He knew the day would
come, but as he sat in the orange glow of one of the furnaces looking out of
the huge window as the snow fell, Santa new it was here – the spirit of
Christmas was fading.
***
Alabaster sensed something was not right with Nicholas. Since
their discussion of the lists earlier in the day, the jolly old fellow with
belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly was not his festive self. From his
window the elderly elf could see the glow from the old workshop and knew his
old friend would be sat worrying the night away.
Pulling on his great coat, a luxuriant deep red velvet with
green piping and snow-white fur trim, and his thick black boots, Alabaster
stepped out of the door, two steaming mugs of cocoa in hand. He walked over in
the swirling snow to the workshop. He took a seat next to Santa and placed down
the mugs without saying a word.
Santa reached out a hand and lifted his mug to his mouth. Taking
a deep draught of the hot sweet drink, he savoured the taste before swallowing.
“Alabaster, what has changed so drastically in the world, my old
friend?”
“I am not quite sure I follow your meaning, Sir, errr,
Nicholas.”
With a mirthless giggle and a little shake of his head Santa
looked at his friend. “I see some things will never change, no matter what I
try. But I am referring to is the naughty list. That seems to grow ever faster
than the nice list.”
“Nicholas, you know as well as anyone that the lists grow and
shrink as often as the tides” Alabaster replied in a placating tone.
“How very true, old friend. But the children’s letters. They’ve
changed. It is as though the children have lost their spirit. Christmas is not
what it used to be for them, but merely a means to get the possessions they
covet the most. Christmas is not the same.”
“Times change, Nicholas, they always do.”
“That they do Alabaster, but this is different.”
Santa finished his cocoa in a dejected silence, his old friend
watching him cautiously. He stood, pacing the workshop floor. He seemed
distracted, a distant look on his face. Santa paused when he reached the end of
the workshop. A section of the back wall was covered in scrap wood, but there
seemed to be a slight breeze coming from behind it. Suddenly he started
clearing the scrap, revealing a long-forgotten door.
“Alabaster – is that the door to the old stable where we stored
the old sleigh?”
“Why yes, I believe it is Nicholas. I’ve seen that look before,
what are you planning?”
***
Santa and Alabaster uncovered the old sleigh, far too small for
Christmas Eve now. But it is a classic model. A two-seater, in a vibrant candy
apple red. All of the metal work shone a lustrous gold, even after all this
time. Two of the elder reindeer were harnessed up to the sleigh, and the
sliding stable doors opened wide.
“Are you sure about this idea Nicholas?”
“I appreciate your concern Alabaster, but I need to do this. I
need to see the world, see the children. I need to restore my hope.”
“In that case, please take care.”
Pulling himself up into the padded leather bench seat of the
sleigh. Dressed in is thick travelling coat, hat, gloves and boots Santa took a
hold of the reins.
“Thank you Alabaster, I will be back before long.”
And with that, the reindeer drew the sleigh out of the stables
and as they gained speed, up into the frigid arctic sky.
***
The sleigh flew over the arctic circle, through Iceland and
Greenland before heading over the British Isles. Without entirely knowing where
he was heading, Santa steered his two reindeer further South. Before he knew
it, the sleigh arrived in London. This city had always been one of Santa’s
favourites. Things had changed a lot since the Victorian era. Certainly the
city was by no means perfect then, but it had character. Now everything was so
much bigger and more modern.
Santa wandered the city. He needed to see the children restore
his faith. One of the great benefits of being Santa, was he could wander the
streets unseen and observe everything. His meanderings found him on Oxford
Street, filled with excited children running from shop to shop. Here Santa was
sure he would rediscover the spirit of Christmas.
His hope waned quickly. All he saw were arguing families, and
greedy children. There were very few happy voices around him. People were in
such a hurry. Presents where being bought, not with love or Christmas cheer,
but because it is what the children asked for. It was what the children
expected. Santa felt lost, his hope vanishing.
The deeper into the city he roamed, the worse things got. There
was no joy to be found, just people in a rush, angry, stressed and greedy.
Santa, ready to give up, slowly ambled out of the heart of the city, and
trudged along to where he left the sleigh.
***
As Santa passed by a children’s hospital, he heard a familiar
voice coming from inside.
“Is that…? No, surely that couldn’t be little Joseph?” Santa
wondered aloud to himself. There was nothing for it, he had to find out. He
followed that voice, familiar and strong.
Santa pulled a stack of letters from his pocket, finding the one
he wanted from the Christmas previous.
Dear Santa,
I am in the hospital this Christmas. I know you can’t make me
better, and I don’t need presents. But I do want something this year. There are
other boys and girls here, more ill than I am. Please bring them presents, make
them happy.
Joseph, Age 6 ½
Santa’s hand dropped for a moment. That letter had touched him
last year when he first read it, and along with a select few other from many
years past, Santa kept this one. But he was sure Joseph had recovered well and
left the hospital, why was he here again? Fearing the worst, Santa sped through
the hospital to find the source of the voice.
As he entered the ward for the youngest patients, Santa found
the body the voice belonged to and stopped in his tracks. All he could do was
stand and stare. Young Joseph, still only seven and a half years old was
visiting with very sick boys and girls. On a battered radio, Joseph was playing
Christmas songs as he sat with the children.
He spoke with them, read festive tales to them. But most of all,
he asked each and every child what they wanted for Christmas. He spent many
hours visiting with them all, his parents following along at a distance.
Tears filled and spilled from Santa’s eyes. The compassion this
young boy, not long out of this very hospital, showed to the children was more
than he had seen in many years. As Joseph and his parents left the hospital, he
asked them to take him to the toy shop nearby. He may not be able to buy much,
but with all of the pocket money he had been saving all year he could by board
games that all the children could enjoy together. He may even be able to get a
few cuddly toys for the youngest.
***
As Joseph wandered the aisles filled with toys and games, Santa
chose this moment to make himself seen. From over his left shoulder Joseph
heard his name.
“Hello Joseph. You look well.”
The boy stopped still for a moment, before he turned.
“Santa?”
“I saw you back at the hospital Joseph. What you are doing is
nothing short of wonderful! And yet, I not I haven’t had a letter from you this
year?”
“I just want the little boys and girls in the hospital to be
happy. I know they will be sad being there on Christmas morning. If I can help
cheer them up then I will.”
“Well Joseph, I can promise you that they will have something to
smile about come Christmas Day. I am pleased you are doing so well, but now I
must return home. There is much work waiting for me.”
And with that, Santa returned to his sleigh, and took the bracing
flight back to the North Pole.
***
As the old sleigh and two elderly reindeer drew into the stable
Alabaster was there to great them.
Welcome back, Nicholas. Did you find what you were looking for?”
His cheeks were rosy and a huge beaming smile filled his round
face. “I most certainly did Alabaster. While it isn’t easy to find, if you look
in the right places the true spirit of Christmas lives on.”
***
Joseph walked into the children’s hospital with bags of presents
in his arms. As he pushed open the doors to the ward, the sounds of joyous,
childish laughter filled his ears. Everywhere he looked the little boys and
girls were playing with dolls and teddys and games galore. Santa had been true
to his word. And there, under the enormous tree was one unopened present.
Wrapped in bright red paper with a silver ribbon was a gift
addressed to Joseph. Attached to the parcel was a note.
For my friend Joseph,
Thank you for reminding me of the true spirit of Christmas. I
may not be able to give these children what the would most love for Christmas,
I hope they may be happy, if only for today.
I think this small gift will be something you will be very happy
with.
Yours,
Santa Claus
Santa Claus
Joseph tore into the brightly coloured paper, removing the lid.
There, nestled safely inside was the wooden race car he had wanted as a younger
boy, before he became sick. He smiled, he cried, he laughed. At that moment,
Joseph loved Christmas more than ever before.
© Steven
Smith – December 2017
Did you find Steven's story heartwarming and perfect for Christmas time?Read more of Steven's stories on his blog and also take a look at his books and beyond blog too!
Happy Reading!
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