Seven years ago I wrote a Christmas story for my little sister. I just dug it up and here it is.
Once upon a time... there were three mice. Their names
were Rudolph, Holly, and Santa. They lived in the home of an elderly gentleman
by the name of Nicholas Clause.
All his life he had been a man
of great charity and was filled with generosity by the sight of those less
fortunate than himself.
Age had taken its toll on him and his body, but his spirit
was as lively as ever. On December the 24th he had realized that
Christmas was the next day and he hadn’t any plans for this celebrated
occasion. The three mice noticed his saddened expressions and decided that it
was their duty to provide Mr. Clause with the enjoyment that he had allowed so
many others throughout the years.
The mice formed a plan. “What could make an old man
happier than seeing children playing in the snow?” they thought. So they
borrowed the man’s hat and ran out into the cold in search of some young
children. They found a young man named Timothy wobbling around with a crutch
under one arm. So they dropped the hat in front of the boy with a label that
said the following: Nicholas Clause, 1238 North Pole, Pennsylvania.
Timothy noticed the hat on the ground and read the note.
As quickly as his fragile body could carry him, he stumbled down the road in
search of the address. After a good amount of traveling, confusion, and
exhaustion, Timothy found himself lost in a place he had never seen before.
Mr. Clause was going for a walk about that same time.
Seeing the boy lost and confused, he invited him into his home for some cookies
and milk. Timothy was always taught not to talk to strangers, but this man was
jolly and had a sparkle of fatherly caring in his eyes and Timothy followed the
man inside. After asking the boy what he was looking for, Nicholas discovered
that he was the one Timothy had come in search of. Nicholas wished he could
reward Timothy for his efforts but couldn’t find anything in his home suitable
for a gift. He led Timothy home and told him that if he ever wanted anything,
he should simply write him a letter and he will see what he can do.
The three mice wished that they could do something for the
boy because Mr. Clause was not able to give anything to Timothy. So they worked
and worked and worked and finally they had completed their gift. They wrapped
it in red ribbon and green felt and delivered it to the boy’s house in the
middle of the night, between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. The door was
locked however, and they could not get the present inside, so they placed it
under a tree for safe keeping and put a shiny red ball in the tree above the
present, to draw attention to what it’s branches harbored beneath their snow
covered bark.
On Christmas day, Timothy slowly crept out of his room.
His parents were still in bed, so he climbed onto the couch and looked out the
window, planning to pass time by dreaming of playing in the snow and making a
model of his father out of large round snowballs.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the ornament in
the tree and ran outside to retrieve it. But before he could grab the sparkling
sphere of red, his attention was captured by a little present underneath the
tree.
There was a note which said
“Merry Christmas, from Santa Clause.” He ripped open the package with
unrestrained enthusiasm and found inside a wooden carved model of a horse-drawn
sleigh with reindeer instead of horses and a miniature version of Nicholas
Clause in the seat of the sleigh. He wished to show his father, but he would
still be sleeping. He put the model in one of his father’s socks which were
hanging over the fireplace to dry so that he would find it when he finally woke
up.
The boy wrote “Santa Clause” a letter, and from that day
forth, every Christmas, they would exchange gifts and do many things to
recreate the joy of that season.
Through what conspired on that Christmas Day, not so very
long ago, many traditions were formed and many people will still be heard wishing
you, a very
Merry Christmas.
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