The Visitor: A modern Christmas Tale

The Visitor: A modern Christmas Tale          

Christmas Eve is a time of magic, a special type of magic, which occurs everywhere in the world. From cities crowded with skyscrapers to small towns with horses and cows. In one particular city, night had fallen while snowflakes danced as they started to cover everything in sight; the black streets becoming white with street signs slowly changing names.  The streets were empty except the occasional person braving the cold; bundled up in their scarves, hats, gloves, and coats watching their breaths as they headed home. 

One such family lived in a meagerly furnished two bedroom apartment located in a graffiti covered neighborhood.  A single mother with her two angels had finally arrived home.  Her son, only 6 years old, is thin and tall with freckled skin, fire red hair, and deep hazel eyes. Her precious daughter, only 4 years old, is considered petite for her age missing patches of brown hair while her brown eyes are full of hope. Shaking off the snow they tried to wash away the cold.

“Time for Bed. Santa can’t come if you are awake,” the mother said.

“But…But what about the milk and cookies,” said her innocent daughter starting to pout, “Santa won’t come without cookies.”

“That’s okay. Santa will understand,” her mother responded with a forced smile on her tired face, “Now go, get ready for bed.” 

As her angels ran to the room they shared, their mother starred sadly at the unlit, hardly decorated Christmas tree sitting in their living room.  Thinking to herself that Christmas isn’t supposed to be like this. Growing up her parents always made sure plenty of presents were under the tree from good old St. Nick.  Now, as a parent, her children wouldn’t have those special memories. For her daughter’s medical bills kept rising while her paycheck kept shrinking. Each child would receive one inexpensive present from a local Goodwill Store. That is all she could afford. Feeling a tug at her shirt, she was brought back to reality.

“Mom, look we’re ready for bed,” her son said as they showed off their winter pajamas.

“You look great,” she smiled, “Head to bed and I will be right there to give you kisses.”

The long day took its toll and quickly they fell asleep cuddled up in blankets. Time to be Santa, she thought to herself placing the two presents under the Christmas tree and heading to her own bedroom. 

Woken up by the railway, the clock reading one minute past midnight, she decided to grab a glass of water. Walking into the kitchen, she was shocked to see a figure next to their tree. A chunky figure wearing a red velvet suit with white and brown fur that reminded her of childhood stories. As she tripped over a dead poinsettia on the floor, he looked over at her with a smile on his face; a friendly face with cherry cheeks, a button nose, comforting blue eyes, and a bushy beard. His whitish gray medium length hair was covered by a familiar red hat with white fur. 

He walked over to her and quietly said, “You have been a very good girl this year,” directing her attention to her children’s bedroom. She broke down falling to the floor and started to cry.  Wiping her tears away, she looked back to the tree and he was gone. Instead there were presents, lots of presents pilled under the tree spilling on the floor. The boxes were wrapped in colorful Christmas wrapping paper. Her daughter got the unicorn, she always wanted, while her son received a brand new bike. Astonished she checked around the apartment but he was nowhere to be seen. Looking at her slumbering children, who were still fast asleep, she realized that the magic of Christmas touched her heart today. She became the child she was 30 years ago and realized that everything is going to be ok.

Closing her children’s door, she spoke out loud, “the magic of Christmas lies in each of us and never dies. Not after Christmas Eve, Not as you grow up.  Thank you, Santa. Thank You.”