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Father Christmas’s Wondrous Present
 
By Susan Brown
 
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Arthur stood in line waiting–not very patiently.

His mother held his hand tightly as the queue inched forward–far too slowly for Arthur, who was fidgeting so much, it was as if he had Saint Vitus’ Dance or ants in his pants.

It was Saturday and the shopping centre was packed, as it always was on Christmas Eve–and many previous days too.

The place was full of decorations, twinkling lights, tinsel, colourful Christmas Trees and jolly Christmas music. Lots of parents and children were doing last minute shopping on this final day before Christmas.

All the children were excited, none more so than little Arthur.

Smells of roast chestnuts, cinnamon, mince pies and other festive things filled the air and warmed young Arthur’s heart–a heart that had ached more this year than any other.

Arthur had got up that morning, knowing that this was going to be a special day. He had waited 364 days since he last went. It was a bit of a disappointment last time, as was the time before that. He couldn’t exactly remember much of the year before, as he was only five at the time but he did remember his intense disappointment when nothing happened.

Now he was seven and he wanted to try as hard as possible for things to go right this time. He was getting worried though, as several of the kids at school didn’t believe. Arthur still did believe though, because he needed too.

The queue moved forward and Arthur jumped up and down and went to the side to see how much longer he would have to wait.

There was a bit of a crisis when he just had to go to the toilet, but a kind lady with a little girl held their place and Arthur didn’t have to go to the back of the queue and start all over again.

It was getting a bit late now and it would surely be closing soon? How soon, Arthur dare not ask his Mummy, but he had a feeling that he might just get there and the doors would shut and he would miss this opportunity.

His heart was full to bursting. He had waited so long for this. When you are seven every day seemed like an eternity and every minute in this queue seemed like an hour.

They were opposite a window with a display of girl’s clothes and he sighed. He could see his reflection and it was all wrong. Such a silly, stupid mistake that should have been sorted out years ago, but hadn’t.

‘Are you all right, Arthur?’

‘Yes, Mummy–how much longer?’

‘Not long now, honey,’

‘But the shops will shut soon!’

‘We have plenty of time and please stop fidgeting like that.’

Arthur tried to stand still–he really did, but he was far too excited for that. Slowly the queue moved forward. Arthur wasn’t the only one excited and he was pleased to see children older than him, well bigger anyway, in the queue. Fancy not believing it was all true?

There were now ten children in front of him.

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four/Three–they were twins

Two

One!

He was at the gate now and he waited and waited. It seemed like it would take forever. He looked up at his Mummy; she was smiling a secret sort of smile–funny that.

The elf at the door was a pretty girl in a green dress and a red Christmassy hat. She smiled at Arthur and he was feeling a bit shy, but smiled back anyway.

There was a little tinkling bell sound coming from the other side of the door and the elf smiled and opened it for them.

Arthur’s little heart started racing. This was it. This was the moment that he had been waiting for–for so very long. He hoped against hope that he would get what he wanted. His Mummy led him in. He had been before, but it was a bit different from last year. They went through a sort of passage that seemed to be carved out of rock. The passage was lit somehow, but Arthurs huge eyes couldn’t see where it was coming from.

It seemed to get colder and there was snow on the floor, not silly fake snow like they had in the school play, but real, cold wet snow.

Arthur looked up at Mummy again; she still had that strange knowing smile. There was a blue glow coming from the end of the tunnel. The light grew brighter and brighter. There was a curtain at the end of the tunnel and it drew open magically as they came close.

There were wooden snow covered steps that led upwards and the light seemed to fade slightly and then change to a soft white colour. At the top of the stairs, Arthur stopped dead. In front of him, in a rock like alcove, sitting on what looked like a golden throne, sat Father Christmas, all decked out in splendid red with a huge white beard that nearly reached his knees.

By the side of him was a real live reindeer with a red shiny nose. The reindeer looked at him and Arthur could have sworn that it winked at him and then proceeded to eat some hay from a basket behind the huge throne.

‘Hello, Arthur,’ Father Christmas said in a deep and jolly voice, full of humour and kindness.

Mummy gently pushed Arthur from behind as Father Christmas patted his knee.

Arthur climbed up on the old man’s knee.

Up close, Arthur could see his ruddy complexion and slightly red nose; also he was a bit large around the tummy.

‘Prob’ly all those sherries and mince pies,’ thought Arthur.

‘Well, Arthur, have you been a good boy this year?’

‘Yes,’ he whispered, feeling more than a little shy.

‘Is that true, Mummy?’

‘Yes, Father Christmas,’ said Mummy, backing up Arthur–as a good mother should.

‘Well let’s see, you did send me a list, I think?’

‘Yes,’ replied the talkative Arthur.

‘Hmm, let me think. That’s right; there wasn’t much on it, only two things. Do you want to tell me what they were, just to remind me?’

Arthur looked at his Mummy. Now it came to it, he didn’t want to say it out loud, in case she got cross. Arthur wished that his Daddy was there, but Daddy was gone now, so he couldn’t use his strength to give him courage.

Arthur took a deep breath, looked into the kind, caring, compassionate eyes of Father Christmas and leaned forward, whispering into his ear.

After Arthur had finished telling Father Christmas what he wanted, he looked down, not daring to look up.

‘Arthur, look at me please.’

Arthur looked up at Father Christmas and saw to his surprise a tear in one of his eyes.

‘You have been a good boy and you have been through some nasty things lately. I cannot help you with one of your wishes, as your father is in a better place now, but is looking down upon you and watching out for you as your Mummy and sister Julie are. The other wish–well I cannot say, but you are a good child and good children deserve good things. Now off you go with your Mummy and go to bed nice and early and see what tomorrow brings. Oh and tell your sister that that she forgot the mince pie last year and I need those to feed not only myself but my reindeer. Carrots are all very well, but you get more miles to the gallon on mince pies!

Arthur giggled at that and jumped off Father Christmas’s lap. He waved goodbye and the reindeer winked at him again as they went through another curtain and found themselves outside in the shopping centre once again.

As Mummy drove home Arthur looked out of the window and tried to see all the lights in the windows of the homes as they passed by. He wasn’t very talkative and wouldn’t tell his Mummy what he said to Father Christmas.

‘It’s a secret,’ he said.

‘Well I hope you asked for something nice,’ said Mummy.

‘I did,’ he said, almost to himself.

~ §~

When they arrived home, Auntie Janet was there. She was looking after Arthur’s sister, Julie.

Julie had been to see Father Christmas the previous week. Being a year younger than Arthur, she was ready for bed and when Mummy and Arthur arrived home, she squealed and ran up to her in her night clothes.

‘Ready for bed, pumpkin?’ Mummy asked, picking her up.

‘Yes, Mummy. Was Father Christmas good, Arthur?’ she asked, looking over her mother’s shoulder.

‘Yes, great–oh, he said not to forget to leave out a mince pie.’

‘I won’t; I’ve done it already and put it on the table by the fireplace so he doesn’t have to go far to get it.’

‘Right, young lady, time for bed.’

‘Oh, Mummmeeeee!’

‘If you don’t go to bed, Father Christmas won’t come; you know the rules.’

‘I’m going to bed soon too,’ said Arthur, not wanting to stay up longer than to brush his teeth and wash his face.

‘Well then, shoot off into the bathroom and do your stuff. I’ll tuck you in when I’m ready.’

‘Night, Auntie,’ the children said together and after a quick hug they were off–Julie to bed with Mummy and after Arthur had put down another mince pie and an adult assisted glass of sherry, he too rushed off to get ready for this, the most exciting of nights.

One last look around the cheerfully decorated room with the large tree and twinkling lights and then Arthur went upstairs.

After putting on his pyjamas and saying his prayers-the same ones that he said every night, he first looked out of the window to see if it was snowing–it wasn’t–so he jumped into bed and waited.

Mummy came in after a few minutes and sat on the bed.

‘Well, poppet, looking forward to Christmas Day?’

‘Oh yes, Mummy.’

She stroked Arthur’s brow, lovingly. ‘You’ve been such a good boy this year. Let’s hope that you get what you want.’

Arthur nearly told her then–what he asked Father Christmas for–but didn’t. Mummy had lost Daddy and she had enough to worry about.

‘Father Christmas said that Daddy is looking down at us; do you think he is too?’

‘Yes, poppet,’ she said, her voice breaking slightly, ‘and he’s very proud, I’m sure, of you and Julie for being such lovely children.’

‘I love you, Mummy,’ he said suddenly and sitting up giving her a big hug. ‘Even Mummy’s need a hug don’t they?’

‘Yes dear, they sometimes do!’ she answered with a smile, but with a tear in her eye. ‘Now settle down or tomorrow will never come.’

She kissed her son goodnight and then left the room. ‘Goodnight, Arthur.

‘’Nighty-night, Mummy,’ the now sleepy boy replied.

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Night passed by as they all do. This night was a special night though, as millions of children waited for the dawn and the presents and the fun and games.

Some wanted bikes, others dolls. Older ones (and regretfully, some younger ones too) wanted video games, CD’s and such like. A few just wanted to have a nice time and be happy.

One child wanted something special.

~ §~

Arthur woke up when his sister jumped on his bed.

‘Come on, sleepyhead, it’s Christmas!’

Arthur cracked open one eye and then the other; only to see the smiling face of Julie, as she used his bed as a trampoline.

‘Julie, I’m sleepy,’ he said as he stretched his arms out and shut his eyes again.

‘Oh come on, we have to go and wake Mummy!’

Julie jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.

Arthur yawned again, not really awake yet.

He heard the thump of slippered feet.

‘Hannah, come on! We have to get Mummy up. She won’t let us open our presents if she’s not there.’

The sound of feet could be heard heading towards Mummy’s room at the end of the corridor.

Arthur didn’t really want to open his eyes. He couldn’t stand the disappointment of his wish not coming true again!

He frowned.

What had Julie called him?

Hannah…Hannah…Hannah––?

His eyes snapped open, and focussing for the first time, glanced down at himself.

He was wearing a nightdress.

His hair was getting into his eyes.

The room was pink and cream, so were his bed covers.

There were two beds in the room, one his, the other he recognised as Julie’s.

He got up and rushed over to the long mirror, his long nightdress flapping strangely against his legs.

He saw a girl–or was it a boy dressed like a girl? Was this some sort of joke?

He gingerly lifted up the hem of his nightdress and gasped.

He–she was a girl–a real girl!

She nearly fainted.

She went and sat on the bed brushing the hair off her face. She was a girl. Father Christmas had made her dream come true. She was whole, complete–and so happy; and,’ she said looking out of the window with a big grin on her face, ‘it’s snowing!’

‘Hannah, will you come now, we need to open our presents,’ called her impatient sister.

Hannah smiled, stood up, walked to the door, gave her astonished sister a big hug and said, ‘I’ve already got my present!’

Epilogue

Twenty four years later, Hannah and her husband Derek brought their son Mark to see Father Christmas. They had been blessed with three lovely children, one girl and two boys.

Mark had always been quiet and introverted but on the face of it happy, but there was something troubling the seven year old. Hannah knew what it was, she had heard him praying at night sometimes, and then there were the nightmares.

Mark sat shyly on Father Christmas’s lap while the reindeer munched on some hay behind.

Hannah and Derek held hands as the shy boy whispered in Father Christmas’s ear. The reindeer looked up at Hannah and winked as Hannah gave a knowing smile.

The End

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My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing and pulling the story into shape.