THE CHRISTMAS STORY 🎄🎅

Little Jack adjusted his earmuffs and blew warm air on his gloves. It did little to fight the cold penetrating through his worn-out warm clothes. But it felt good for a second or two, and that was all he needed.

He looked back at the town he had just come from. The lights were visible even from so far. Christmas! Oh! how he loved this festival and waited for it to arrive. But he didn’t love it for the reasons the children of his age loved it. He never received gifts, and neither did he expect them from his widowed mother. It had been hard since his father passed away, and he knew not to trouble his mother by asking for something as expensive as gifts.

He loved Christmas for he could sell the handmade toys he and his mother made, in the town. Oh, how the kids loved them. And how the parents were ready to spend even extra pennies to just let their children have those colourful toys.

He weighed his money pouch with his hands. It felt heavy. It would be enough to feed him and his mother for at least a few weeks, he was sure of that. And so tonight, to celebrate Christmas, he had bought a warm loaf of creamed bread for him and his mother. And he was also proud of the secret gift he had bought for his mother, a warm blanket. He knew his mother never bought any warm clothes for her, that she always sacrificed her warm clothes for his warmth. So, as he dragged his little sledge across the snow, he shot proud glances at the warm blanket lying on it.

‘Help! Could anyone please help?’ Jack looked towards the source of the voice. It wasn’t coming from far. Should I check it out? He wondered. He had heard stories of witches and wizards kidnapping the little kids who walked through the forest. So, he lingered there, not being able to decide.

‘Please help this poor old guy.’ The voice came again. The voice was warm, and kind, and full of love. Witches and wizards have a crooked voice, he had heard in the stories. So, he decided whoever it was, wasn’t one of the bad ones. So, he held his lantern high and started moving towards the direction of the voice.

‘Oh, thank you so much. Thank you for coming.’ The shadowy figure said.

‘What happened sir?’ Jack asked. He raised his lantern to find an old man standing next to him. The old man had a white beard, so big, that it covered his complete neck, and the old man had the bluest eyes Jack had ever seen.

‘Oh, oh, I lost my sledge… and, and… some people robbed me of my warm clothes and took away my food.’ The Old man said, he shivered while he spoke, and his voice sounded weak.

'Oh, I am so sorry dear Sir. No one should feel unfortunate on the eve of Christmas. Is there anything I can do for you?' Jack asked, genuinely.

‘Oh, yes, there is something you can do this poor old man. If it's not too much to ask, could you please feed me?’ The old man pleaded.

For a few moments, Jack looked at the bag he carried; the aroma of the creamy bread was still as sweet as it was when he had bought it. He wanted his mother and him to eat it, but they had two days old still eatable bread at home, and the old man just seemed too hungry.

‘You can have this.’ Jack said, giving the loaf of bread to the old man. He watched as the old man’s face lit up at the sight of the freshly baked bread.

‘Oh, thank you so much, my child. Thank you so much. May lord bless you.’ The old man said as he sat on the trunk of a fallen tree. ‘Would you please give this old man some company while he eats?’

‘Sure.’ Said Jack, his legs had suddenly started to feel weak to him. So, the idea of sitting down for a while seemed just too pleasing not to refuse.

‘What did you wish this year from Santa?’ The old man asked. He was eating the bread in hurry, leaving breadcrumbs falling on the snow.

‘I didn’t wish.’ Jack replied, wiggling his legs.

‘Oh...' That was all the old man said. 'If it's not too much to ask for little one, do you have anything warm for me? Sorry to say it like this, but this cold might kill me if I don’t have anything warm for the night.’ The old man said, finishing the bread. He rubbed his hands together to keep himself warm and kept chattering his teeth.

‘Umm, I have a blanket.' Jack said as his mind raced. 'But would you return it when you come back this road?’

The old man thought for a moment. ‘I can’t promise it little one, I might not return here for maybe another year.’ The old man studied the face of little Jack.

Jack thought for a moment. His mother would want him to give the blanket to the old man. The blanket would keep them warm for many nights to come, but she would never forgive Jack for leaving an old man by himself, without any warm clothes, to survive a cold dark night.

‘Take it.’ Jack said, as he pulled the blanket from his sledge. The sledge, which was fixed with ropes and nails at many places, wiggled.

‘Oh, thank you little one. Thank you so much. Oh, it is warm. Very, very warm.’ The old man said, as he wrapped himself in the red blanket.

‘So, you were telling me you didn’t wish for anything this year?’ The old man said.

‘Hmm.’ Jack replied. ‘My friends say you need a good chimney for Santa to enter your house and deliver you gifts... And the chimney of our home was broken in the storm last week… We live too far away from the city, anyways… so Santa won't come. He didn’t come when papa was there, and he won’t come now.’ Jack said, barely controlling the tears that wanted to run free from his eyes.

‘Oh, little one. Come here.’ The old man hugged Jack. ‘You are a very good child, Jack. You are a very good child.’ He kept saying, as his hands stroked his hair.

A minute or two later Jack ended the hug and dropped on his feet.

‘I must get going, good sir. I don’t want to have my mum worried over me.’ He grabbed the handle of his sledge. ‘You be safe tonight sir, be aware of witches and wizards, and of wolves, and monsters. My mum says they feed on the young and the old in the forest.’

'I will keep that in mind, Jack. Thank you, and you take care too.' The old man said.

Jack waved goodbye and started dragging his sledge. ‘Oh wait!’ He said turning back. ‘I nearly forgot, Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas, Jack.’ The old man said, with a smile that Jack felt made the whole sky just shine a little brighter.

Jack kept dragging his sledge across the snow and kept singing the carols his mother had taught him. Never once wondering how the old man knew his name.

When he reached home, his mother was standing outside. Upon seeing Jack, she came running towards him and hugged him in a bone-crunching embrace.

‘Mom, what happened?’ Jack asked, barely being able to breathe.

‘I can’t explain, it just happened, as if magic, I mean, I don’t know, one moment I was outside, and I heard something, and then I came running, and there were lights and things, and I don't know, it just happened so fast, and I didn't see anything, maybe some reindeers, but I don't know, I don't know. You look for yourself, please you look for yourself.’ She said, panting.

She led him through the door of their house, the chimney of which, Jack noticed, had been repaired.

And when he entered the house, he saw that it was filled with boxes wrapped in shining papers, some boxes were even taller than him, and there were too many cakes, and pastries, and sweets on the table. There was one red coloured blanket on the bed, with a note stuck on it.

‘Returning the blanket you so gracefully gave to this old man. I am also leaving you some specially hand-picked gifts, including some warm clothes for you and your mom. And yes I nearly forgot, you shall find a little pony and a golden sledge at the back of your yard.
P.S. Hope you like the sweets my elves and wife made for you.
Lots of love,
Your dear Santa.’

Hope you like this Christmas Story I wrote for all of you. Merry Christmas.
-Jayesh Bhaware