Returns for Santa

1st place winner of BreakingFree's Strength of Word's Contest

Returns for Santa

“Santa! Santa!” Two brightly dressed elves burst through the smaller wooden doors of Santa Clause’s office, both red faced and breathing heavily as if they had just run through the entire workshop. The old man set his pencil down and took his reading glasses off, waiting patiently for the smaller creatures to catch their breath. After a brief moment of gulping air they straightened and erupted into a string of unintelligible words, both trying to explain the situation at the same time.

“Whoa, slow down,” Santa said holding up a hand. The elves quieted immediately. Getting up from his overstuffed chair, the father of Christmas came around to the front of his desk. “Now, what exactly has you two so excited?” he asked, leaning forward until he was eye level with them, a twinkle in his eye. Kirby and Mia were the head elves of the Mail Room and were known for getting overly excited about nothing at all. Santa suspected they got bored and would create “dilemmas” to amuse themselves with. “And please, one at a time and slowly. I am old after all.”

“You got a package,” Kirby squeaked.
“A package? Is that all this is about?”
“It’s a return package sir, from a little girl,” Mia added cutting Santa’s merry chuckle short.

“A return package?” The elves nodded nervously. They had never had a child send their presents back to the workshop and were unsure of what to do. Santa straightened, frowning.

“There was a letter,” Kirby said, handing over a simple white envelope. It was from a little girl named Rebecca Ann Rosewell. He knew the little girl well. She was seven years old and had been exceptionally good that year, earning all of the beautiful presents he had sent her, including the porcelain doll she had wanted so very much. Wondering why she had sent everything back, he opened the letter and read out loud.

Dear Santa,
         My daddy says you can give any present in the world. So maybe you can give me back my mommy. That’s the only present I want. My mommy died three days after Christmas. She was really sick. She had cancer Can you give me back my mommy please? I’ve sent you back all of the presents you gave me. I don’t want them any more. I just want my mommy back. Please Santa. I won’t ask for another present ever again if you give me back my mommy. I promise.

Love,
Rebecca Ann Rosewell

With tears in his eyes, Santa lowered the letter from his sight and fell silent. Kirby and Mia wiped their own glistening tears from their cheeks, neither knowing what to say.

“What do we do Santa?” Mia asked after a moment of silence. The old man shook his head, completely at a loss. Over the centuries he had dealt with some rather difficult letters; children wanting their parents to get back together after a divorce, finding pets that had run away, things of that nature. But he had never had a request to bring someone back from the dead. This was out of his hands. Only the angels could reverse death and he knew they’d never do that. “There is a rhyme and a reason for every death in the grand scheme of things” they’d say. So what was he supposed to do? How could he mend this little girl’s broken heart?

Sighing and suddenly feeling the weight of the centuries on his shoulders, Santa gazed around his office, his eyes coming to rest on his personal collection of toys that were shelved on the right wall. There was a toy there from every year he had been Santa, dating all the way back to a time when he wasn’t the only one using a sleigh for travel. In the center of the middle shelf sat his favorite toy of all, an angel with ringlets of gold dressed all in white with a blue sash around her waist. It had been the very first gift he had received as Santa Clause and it had been given to him by Mother Nature herself. He prized that doll above all others because it resembled his wife when they had first met.

Starring at the doll, Santa was suddenly struck by inspiration. He knew it wasn’t exactly what Rebecca had wanted, but maybe; just maybe, it would help to heal her heart nevertheless.

“Kirby, Mia, go tell Barnaby to have my sleigh ready for tonight.” Returning to his chair, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, returned his reading glasses to his nose and grabbed his pencil.

“Yes sir,” the elves replied at once though both looked confused. Shrugging to each other, they turned and hurried out of the office contemplating what their boss had in mind.

“What do you think he’s thinking?” Kirby asked his tiny face scrunched in a worried frown. Mia shook her head as they hurried along the hall leading to the main floor of the workshop. It was the quickest way to the stables where they knew they’d find Barnaby.

“I don’t know. Not even Santa has the power to bring people back from the dead.”

~*~

Weak winter light filtered through lace curtains and a small golden haired child stirred from beneath a down comforter. Rebecca Ann Rosewell slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, but not really wanting to be awake yet too afraid to go back to sleep. She had dreamt about her mommy and the hospital again. She hated those dreams; they reminded her just how much she missed her mommy.

It had been nearly a week since she had written to Santa and she was beginning to wonder if her daddy was wrong about him. What if Santa couldn’t give her the present she really wanted? She hoped he could.

Rebecca pulled her feet from beneath her covers and put them on the ice cold floor. Wandering over to her window she gazed out at the snow shining like diamonds. Her mommy had told her that had to be super cold out for the snow to sparkle like that. Sighing, the little girl turned from the wintry scene and froze, a frown wrinkling her tiny features.

There, sitting in her rocking chair sat a doll she had never seen before. Her golden hair was twirled into ringlets and hung about a tiny face. Big blue eyes stared back at her and though they were painted, they seemed to actually be watching her. Pale pink lips were painted into a smile. The doll wore a simple white gown with a blue sash tied around her waist. It was the exact same blue as her eyes. Rebecca couldn’t help but notice that the doll looked an awful lot like her mommy. In her arms sat a small white envelope with her name printed neatly across the front.

Curious, the child picked up the small package and opened it. The same neat hand writing that had written her name across the front had also written the letter inside.

Dear Rebecca,
         I am terribly sorry about your mother. She was a lovely woman. I am also sorry that I cannot grant your request. I have a special request of my own. My pretty little angel doll is lonely and is need of a good friend to take care of her. I think that you’re just the girl for the job. Would you do me that favor? I know it’s quite a lot to ask, but I know you can do it. Watch over her and take good care of her. Maybe one day she can return your kindness. Thank you very much and take care Rebecca Ann Rosewell.

Your dearest friend,
Santa Clause

Rebecca set the letter down and picked the doll up, studying her closely. “Do you need a friend, Angel?” she asked quietly, “I do too.” With that she gave the doll a tight hug and she could swear the doll hugged her back.