Some Christmas Magic

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is written for my daughter Sammy, who although she is a adult still loves the magic of Christmas. Sammy this is how you make me feel about Christmas.

Submitted: December 03, 2016

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Submitted: December 03, 2016

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The fragrant smell of wood hangs at the top of the chimney, lingering near the highest row of bricks before being caught on the crisp air of the evening and drifting off towards the heavy snow clouds that hung low over the roof tops.  A sure sign that by daylight there will be a  winter wonderland covered in a generous blanket of crisp white snow. 

He balances himself carefully on the ridge tiles, taking care not to slip or cause any noise. His hands now gently warmed by the heat that is retained by the chimney from the fire that, has like the occupants of the house, gone to sleep hours ago. 

In one  effortless moment he is in the chimney and the next he is standing on the hearth of the fireplace in the sitting room. A tree in the corner twinkles with a dazzling array of multi-coloured lights. The coloured patterns dance around the walls of the room revealing a wonderful array of cards full of warm wishes and cheer for the festive season.   

The old oak mantle piece  over the fireplace that has seen many Christmases over years has once again overwhelmed with a decadent arrangement of holly sprigs, scented candles and red berries. 

In the middle of the room by the deep seated leather armchair the coffee table sits with offerings that could not ( and will not) be refused. A home made mince pie heavily dusted in icing sugar and filled so deeply that the contents overflow the pastry lid and stick to the sides  sits next to a  delicate cut glass filled with a caramel coloured liquid that smells of honey and spices and exudes a  warmth as it is drunk. In a short moment not a drop is left and only crumbs and a ghost of icing sugar are evidence of the indulgent treat that had previously sat on the small china plate. 

He places the three carrots that have also been left out along with a generous handful of pony nuts into his deep red outer pockets.  A broad smile creeps across his heavily bearded face, pushing out the wrinkles that give away the decades of years he had been alive. He knows that his team of four legged companions are waiting close by and will gratefully receive the thoughtful treats that now bulge in his pocket. 

A stretch of his arms and large long yawn reminds him that each year the last hour is always the most challenging and rewarding. His job is almost done, this is his last house before he returns back to the north and the warmth of his bed.

He picks up the sack that he had placed by the side of the fireplace and peered inside.  He removes the beautifully wrapped presents and arranges them around the outside of the tree.  He knows that within a few hours each gift  will be opened in a rush of excitement and squeals of delight. Toys that would be treasured and memories that would last forever. 

One last thing to do. He reaches to his inside pocket and pulls the small golden lace pouch out. Carefully he sprinkles the dust over the presents. The minute silver crystals twinkling in the lights from the tree, turns invisible as it covers each present.  Each particle contains  an exact amount of love, joy, wellbeing and finally a little ( but not too much) excitement powder.  

Just before he leaves he recounts the presents under the tree to make sure that no one has been forgotten. All present and all correct.  

A glance out the window and snowflakes have started to fall. Gently kissing the glass panes as they settle on the window sill outside.  The bright moon lights the magical scene as everything turns white. 

The Christmas magic is complete and he leaves as quickly and silently as he came. 

Until next year..... 

 

 


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