Following is a Christmas story I wrote. It's never been published before, so I guess this counts as the first time. This is coprighted material. Please do not copy or redistribute without my permission. Let me know what you think.
The Winter Toy Maker
This story begins, as all such stories should. Once upon a time there was a humble young carpenter and his wife who lived in a wintry country in Northern Europe, in a small village named Spielzeugdorf. Their names were Nicolas and Maria Claus. Nicolas and Maria loved children but had never been blessed with children of their own, and so they treated all children as if they were theirs. Nicolas had a particular talent for working with wood. Every creation of his, be it a desk, chair or simple table was a work of art; but no work was so fine as the toys he made for the children. And Nicolas never charged a single coin for the toys he so lovingly crafted. A child stopping by for a visit or accompanying a parent would never leave empty-handed. There was always a toy perfect for that child, and fresh baked cookies from Maria’s kitchen. After years of this tradition Nicolas and Maria became renowned for their loving kindness and generosity to children.
Now it so happened that one particularly cold and bitter winter eve, Nicolas and Maria received a visit from a man of a neighboring town who had ridden through bitter cold and heavy falling snow to reach them.
“My friend you are frozen to the bone!” Nicolas exclaimed as the man pulled up in a small sleigh driven by an exhausted workhorse, steaming from pulling the sleigh. “You come right inside and let Maria tend you while I see to your horse.”
“You are very kind,” the man said through frozen lips. “I’ve come with a request for your talents.”
“My talents, in this weather?” Nicolas asked bewildered. “What could be important enough to bring you out in this weather? Is your home missing a door? No matter, you can tell me all about what piece of furniture would be so important as to send a man out to his death in this weather after we’ve restored some warmth to your bones. Inside with you now.” As he led the man inside he called out to his wife, “Maria! An icicle has come for a visit. See if you can’t thaw it out and see if there is a man hidden inside won’t you, dear?”
“Of course!” Maria said as she saw the poor man. “Come inside and sit by the fire; I’ll get you something warm to drink.”
After cooling and rubbing down the man’s horse and stabling her in the barn with a warm blanket, Nicolas went inside to see what had brought the man to see him.
“It’s our children, you see,” the man, who had introduced himself as Jan the woodsman from a neighboring village of Freudendorf, explained as he sipped from his third cup of warm cider, Maria’s own special recipe. “This winter, though just begun, has hit with such a fury. The children of our village are all locked inside without anything with which to play. We have no toy makers in our village to make toys for them to play with. We have heard of your wondrous toys, of course, and a few parents got together and decided to implore you to sell us some toys that I may bring back for the children. We know the joy of a Claus toy would surely help see them through this dismal season. So please, sir, if you could see to sell us some of your toys . . .”
Nicolas looked at the man with concern in his eyes. Truly the love of these parents for their children touched him deeply. He knew the love of the parents in this small village equaled if not surpassed his and Maria’s own love for children.
“I am sorry, but I cannot take your money, my good man,” Nicolas explained solemnly. “My toys, you see, are not for sale.”
“But I have the money here, and I’ve come through such weather, if you could just let me purchase a few toys to take with me,” the man begged not understanding what Nicolas meant. “The children, sir—“
“Of course, the children,” Nicolas agreed. “But, sir, I have never sold a toy in my life, and could not begin to do so now. My toys are meant as a gift for children; I could never place a price on them. What is a gift if you place a price upon it? Your children shall have toys, my new friend, and I shall deliver them myself. I could not call myself a good man, and certainly not a follower of the Christ, if I were to do any less. You’ll need to give me a few days to get things ready, and then I shall accompany you back to your village with a toy for every child.”
“Sir, you are too kind,” the man said his voice full of emotion.
“We shall accompany you, on this journey,” Maria corrected her husband.
“Maria, no dear, you should not be out in such weather as this,” Nicolas argued.
“And neither should you, Nicolas,” Maria argued back. “If you are willing to risk so much for these children, than so am I. But no husband of mine is going out into this weather without his wife by his side.”
“Well, my friend,” Nicolas said with a chuckle, “there is no arguing with my wife when her mind is set. The three of us shall leave as soon as I can prepare a sled large enough to carry all the toys and something strong enough to pull it.”
Though he spoke with great optimism, Nicolas was worried about how he would accomplish the task of preparing toys and finding a way to deliver them to the village. Unsure of a proper solution, Nicolas turned, as was his habit, to prayer in search of a solution. “Lord,” he prayed that night as he and Maria knelt by their bed, their new friend, Jan, bedded down in the comfortable stable with his horse. “We dearly desire to help the children of Freudedorf, but the task seems beyond our strengths to accomplish. Won’t Thou help us, Lord, that we might accomplish this thing? In Thy son’s name, amen.”
The Lord’s help came in the form of strength of limb to give Nicolas the strength to tirelessly finish a toy for every child in Jan’s village. The question of how to deliver the toys was answered by Sebastion, Nicolas’ woodcutter partner, who presented the Clauses with a large old wood sled to carry all the toys.
“But we still don’t know how to pull the sled,” Nicolas explained in another prayer. “Sebastion has already sacrificed a sled, we cannot ask him to place his own horses at risk. Jan’s horse is not strong enough to pull the sled alone, our old Tess no longer has the strength to pull, and no one in the village can risk their horses on such a dangerous trip as this. I have asked for so much Lord, and Thou hast always been so giving. Cans’t Thou please help us again and send us help to pull our sleigh?” Nicolas finished his prayer and climbed into bed next to Maria.
“The Good Lord has never let us down, Nicolas,” Maria assured her husband as she snuggled in close to him. “You have always been faithful, and never let Him down. You will see; His help will come.”
The help did indeed arrive the very next morning. As Nicolas went to see to their guest he found a small herd of reindeer gathered about the Claus home. Although not uncommon in that part of the world, reindeer were not known for coming into villages. Even odder these reindeer were gathering right around the sled as if waiting for something. Jan was astounded, as several of the strongest caribou calmly allowed themselves to be hitched to the sled. “Ask the Lord for a miracle, my friend, and he sends you one!” Nicolas laughed as he threw one arm around Jan’s shoulder and waved at the harnessed deer with the other. “Rarely is it quite what you expect though. I was thinking horses; He thought reindeer. Well, the Lord knows what’s best.”
The reindeer quickly proved God right. The caribou, accustomed to the wild winters of that land, had no problem pulling the sleigh through the snow. The large husky animals showed great strength, as together they pulled the laden sled with little effort, working together as if they had been pulling sleds all their lives.
“Here, Nicolas, I’ve made us coats to wear while you’ve been busy with the toys,” Maria explained as she draped a large red fur coat over Nicolas’ shoulders on the day they had chosen to leave.
“Very warm, my dear,” Nicolas said with a smile, as he tried to move his arms in the enormous coat. “But why red?”
“And why not?” Maria playfully argued. “I love red, and it is so much warmer and prettier than brown, and easier to see in the snow so we don’t lose you. Now be quiet and get in the sleigh.”
“As I said,” Nicolas grinned to Jan who rode next to them in his small sleigh, also laden with toys and pulled by reindeer, his horse tied to the back, “there is no arguing with this woman when her mind is set.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Jan agreed with a laugh.
The trio started early that morning and traveled all day, through a heavy snow that had begun to fall soon after their departure, offsetting the dismal weather with pleasant conversation. Jan told them of his family, of his wife, daughter and newborn son, while Nicolas told stories of his youth and courtship of Maria. As night fell Jan assured them they were drawing near his town, but the snowfall had picked up once more and it soon became difficult to see anything beyond a few yards.
“How will we ever find our way in this weather, Nicolas?” Maria asked. “Perhaps it was a mistake to risk this journey after all.”
“Maria, the Lord has seen fit to meet all our needs so far,” Nicolas comforted his wife. “We shall have to trust Him in this as well.”
Their faith proved to be well placed for mere moments later they saw a curious thing. Lights sparkled in the night where no town seemed present. It was as if the stars themselves had descended from the heavens to light their way. As they drew nearer they discovered the lights were not heavenly stars but earthly candles that had been hung from the bows of trees and left to burn, lighting a path for the trio to follow, leading into the village itself.
“This is Master and Mistress Claus,” Jan eagerly introduced the couple to the people of his home.
“We knew you would come,” one of the villagers explained. “But we were afraid you might get lost in the weather. So for days now we have kept candles burning in the trees to light the way.”
“A truly inspired act,” Nicolas agreed. “Now where are the children? I would waste no time in being about my duties!” And so Nicolas and Maria began the joyful task of handing out presents to each and every child in the village. They spent a few moments in each home, handing a toy to each grateful child; the only charge a warm smile, kind word, and the occasional peck on the cheek. Maria watched as her dear portly husband laughed heartily with the children, unable to recall a time when he had seemed so happy in all his life.
“Will you come again next week?” Greta, the daughter of Jan asked Master Claus as he and his wife prepared to leave a few days later when conditions were fit for travel once more. The little girl hugged a beautifully carved doll with locks of golden hair made from curled wood shavings, lovingly to her breast.
“Oh, my Dear if only we could,” Nicolas said as he gave the girl a hug. “But I could never make enough toys in a week to bring back. It would take a year to make enough toys for everyone!”
“Then come again next year!” The little girl with golden locks of her own cried with delight. “Oh please, Master Claus, promise you’ll come again next year. Please?”
“How could I ever say no, to such a face as this?” Nicolas laughed as he cupped the little girl’s chin in his large hand. “You have my word as a Christian, the Lord willing, I will return again next year with toys for everyone. But you must promise to light the way with candles in the trees once more, so that I don’t pass the village by in the night.”
“We will, Master Claus, we will,” Greta promised, throwing her tiny arms around Nicolas’ ample middle in delight.
And so the tradition began. Every year, on the week of the Winter Solstice, and at the time the Christ Mass came to be held, celebrating the birth of the Savior, Nicolas and Maria would load up their sleigh with toys, gather up their caribou friends and set off to deliver toys to the children. They would go first to those in their own town and then to the home of Jan and his daughter Greta. As the years passed the Clauses began to visit other villages as well, until almost the entire month of December was spent delivering toys to the eagerly anticipating children. It was a long and laborious effort, but the couple never grew tired of it.
After years of these Christmas deliveries letters began to arrive from the children. Within days Nicolas began to receive letters of gratitude, thanking him for a doll or toy cart, begging him to return again soon with another doll—as a friend to the first—or a horse to pull the cart. The requests were accompanied by promises to behave and act in a truly Christian manner until he returned again. Nicolas cherished these letters, as did Maria, who would sit and read them to her husband while he labored in his shop.
“Why do you insist on travelling at such an awful time of year to deliver your toys?” Sebastian the woodcutter asked one day as he helped Nicolas fill the sleigh with a load of toys.
“It is in the bleak hours of winter that the hearts of the children need the most cheering,” Nicolas explained. “There is so little cheer in the winter, and little of anything else as well, including food. I cannot feed every child, but I can give him or her a gift, to warm the heart if not the hands. Besides, it seems an appropriate time of year for giving gifts. It is the time we Christians have begun celebrating the birth of the Christ child, the Savior of all mankind. He gave such a wonderful gift to us all Sebastian, and I would like to do the same. It is said that when the Savior was born wise men from the East came and gave him gifts of gold, Frankincense, and Myrrh. Great gifts for God’s own gift, his son, the greatest gift ever given in the history of the world. I think of Him, and worship Him each and every time I place a toy in a child's hands. In a way it is as if I place a gift in the Christ child’s hand when I give toys to all the children.”
“You are a good man, Nicolas, and I am sure your God accepts your gifts,” the woodcutter said as he squeezed his old friend’s shoulder fondly.
“He is your God too, Sebastian, not just mine.”
“But I am not a Christian like you.”
“That does not matter, my friend,” Nicolas laughed. “You may not believe in God, but that does not stop Him from believing in you!”
“You are a marvel, my friend,” Sebastian laughed in return. “You truly seem worthy of the name people have begun to call you.”
“What name is that?” Maria asked as she came to join her husband and neighbor.
“Why they call our Nicolas a Saint of course,” Sebastian said, clapping Nicolas on the shoulder. “Every child throughout the land waits each year in hopes that Sinterklaas will bring him a wooden horse or her a wooden doll.”
“Santa Claus is it?” Maria said with a smile. She and Sebastian both laughed when Nicolas’ cheeks turned a rosy red with embarrassment. “Well, Santa, you had better get busy so we can be on our way, or you’ll lose your reputation as the greatest giver of gifts Christmas has ever seen!”
So the years passed. Years became decades and Greta and the other children grew into adults and had children of their own whom, like their parents before them, grew up in yearly anticipation, awaiting the arrival of Saint Nicolas and his wonderful gifts. Decades passed and Nicolas’ fame grew—as did his waist thanks to Maria’s cooking—as his hair slowly turned from black to gray and then to snowy white. Maria, who never failed to join her husband on his yearly excursions, often commented that when it snowed she could not distinguish the white of her husband’s beard from that of the fresh fallen snow; his face was just one large snowball. If it weren’t for the red winter coats he had grown accustomed to wearing, she was sure she would lose him in the snow even if he were sitting right next to her.
More years passed and age finally began to catch up with Nicolas and Maria. Nicolas refused to let it slow him down of course; he had too much work to do to be slowed down by age. And so it caught up with Maria first.
It was some months before Christmas when Maria fell ill. There was no cure for her illness; her body was simply slowing down. Nicolas did not mind the added burden of caring for his wife; it was truly no burden to him at all. Though he was not so fair a cook as she was, he kept them fed and warm, and when he was not in his shop or doing the daily household chores, he would sit at the bedside and talk or read to the now pale and frail Maria.
One day Nicolas had just finished a new figurine and was bringing it in to show Maria when he saw her sitting up in bed with tears in her eyes. Nicolas tossed the figurine down on the bed and hurried to his wife’s side, taking her hand in his and gently kissing it. “Maria, are you in pain?” He asked, his voice brimming with concern. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine, Nicolas, I’m fine,” Maria said as she brought her husband’s hand up to her lips and kissed it softly. “I was just lost in silly thoughts is all.” She looked down at the tiny figure on her lap and picked it up. The figurine was in the form of a slender woman in the prime of her life, with long flowing hair and a loving smile. As was always the case with one of Nicolas’ creations, careful attention had been given to the smallest of details. Her hair was stained auburn and her green eyes were so vibrant Maria almost felt as if she looked into the eyes of a tiny living elf. “What a beautiful doll, Nicolas. I swear she is the most beautiful you have ever carved. Your work only improves with age.”
“I was inspired with this one,” Nicolas said as he ran a finger over the figurine's head.
“And where did such inspiration come from, an angel in heaven?” Maria asked.
“Yes, from an angel, my own angel. You,” Nicolas answered honestly.
“This is me?” Maria scoffed. “My hair has not had this much color for ages.”
“It is how I see you,” Nicolas explained.
“I was never this beautiful,” Maria said.
“No, you were and are even more beautiful,” Nicolas said, kissing his wife on the cheek. “No work of mine could ever do you justice. But, this is close to what I see when ever I look at you, or picture you in my mind when we are apart.”
“You are a silly wonderful man, Nicolas,” Maria said as she held the doll to her bosom and patted her husband’s cheek. Then she looked at the doll fondly. “Some little girl is going to love this doll. She will run to show it to her mother and say she looks just like her. Her mother will hug her daughter tight…and…Oh, Nicolas,” Maria said as tears welled up in her eyes once more and she lay back wearily, holding the tiny doll to her heart. “Why was I never blessed with children? I wanted nothing more than to have a child, just one child, of my very own. Why did the Lord never see fit to bless us with one?”
“I don’t know Maria,” Nicolas said, pulling his wife in close as he sat beside her on the bed. “But I believe God gives us trials to see what we will do with them. I suppose He wanted us to learn something. Perhaps we were not blessed with children of our own so that we could learn to love other children. Perhaps if we’d had a child we would have been so caught up in raising and caring for him—“
“Her.”
“Her then,” Nicolas said with a grin. “That we would not have seen the needs of the other children. Actually we do have children,” he continued after giving the matter some thought. “Every child who plays with a Claus toy or eats one of Misses Claus’ famous pastries is a child of ours. We love each of them do we not?”
“Yes, we do,” Maria agreed, smiling warmly and wiping the tears from her eyes on her blanket. “I just wish sometimes, that we could have—“ Maria broke off and smiled once more, wiping more tears from her eyes. “Look at me, acting like a child. I will miss not being able to go with you this year, Nicolas.”
“What do you mean? There is plenty of time for you to get better. You will sit next to me on the sleigh this year same as always.”
“Nicolas,” Maria muttered as she began to drift off to sleep. “You would’ve… made…a wonderful…father…”
“And you a wonderful mother,” Nicolas whispered as he pulled the covers up to his wife’s chin, tears now springing into his own eyes.
After extinguishing the lights in the bedroom, Nicolas retired to the front room and sat next to the fireplace. He gazed into the fire for a long while and then sank to his knees in prayer. “Our Father Who Art in Heaven,” he began,” I kneel before you with a heavy heart. Father, my dear sweet Maria lays sick and wasting away. I cannot go on without her. Please if she is to return to your hallowed realm, let me return as well.
“Father, my heart is much troubled,” Nicolas said, changing his prayer to the thoughts that truly occupied his mind. “I am an old man; my life stretches out behind me. I…have I…I’m not even sure what I want to say. Have I lived a good life? Has my life been one that your Son would smile upon? I wanted to live the life he would have led in my place. I wish…I…I wish…” his voice trailed off as he lost himself in thought.
A noise made Nicolas halt his prayer. It was a peculiar sound, like the tinkling of tiny bells. He looked about wondering what had made the peculiar noise, listening to try and catch it again. Suddenly he saw a tiny light in the far corner of the room. It was small but grew steadily larger and brighter until the entire room was bathed in a brilliant light, brighter even than the sun at its most brilliant. Nicolas had never seen such a bright light, and yet he stared at it unflinchingly, knowing such a light should have blinded him and yet feeling no pain.
Suddenly a figure seemed to step out of that light and stood before the kneeling Nicolas. The light seemed even brighter around this figure clothed in a long robe that was whiter than the purest new-fallen snow. The robe fell to the end of the personage’s wrists and to the ankles of his bare feet. As he stood looking at Nicolas the light flooding the room seemed to gather in until it rested just around the robed figure.
“Nicolas Claus, why do you wear such a look of wonder?” the personage asked, smiling at the astonished carpenter.
“Who are you?” Nicolas managed to ask.
“My name is Gabriel, and I am a messenger from He to whom you were just speaking.”
“You are an angel of God?” Nicolas asked.
“I am,” the angel replied.
“Why have you come to me?” Nicolas asked.
“You had questions that needed answering, and in your heart you asked for one such as I to answer, and so here I am. Now tell me, what is it you would ask of me.”
“I…I…don’t know what to say,” Nicolas stammered.
“Be not afraid; speak the words I read in your heart, Nicolas.”
“My wife, she is ill—“
“She is weighed down by age,” the angel agreed. “Fear not, Nicolas, your wife will never leave your side. You two are bound by a bond that shall never be broken, in this life or the next. That promise at least I shall seal upon you.”
“Have I lived a good life?” Nicolas blurted. “I’ve tried to be a true Christian. I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. The Lord has blessed my life so, I wanted to return something, but I had nothing to give him—“
“So you gave to the children instead.” The angel finished. “Would you like to see what your life’s work has accomplished Nicolas? Would you care to see what you have done for the Lord? Come with me and I shall show you.”
“But how?” Nicolas asked as he rose.
“You shall see,” The angel assured him. “You have but to touch the end of my robe.” He held out his hand and Nicolas hesitantly grasped the cuff of the angel’s sleeve.
Suddenly the light seemed to engulf the duo and when it receded they were somewhere else.
“Do you know this place?” Gabriel asked Nicolas.
“It is Freudendorf, the village we first visited to bring toys to the children,” Nicolas said. As he and Gabriel walked the streets Gabriel periodically instructed Nicolas to look in through windows, or the two would simply walk through walls into homes. In each home there was at least one happy child playing with a Claus made toy, some sharing with each other, others carrying on mock battles with their wooden soldiers. Nicolas recognized each, and named each in turn. “Why there’s my little Greta, but Gabriel she is grown now with children of her own."
“And her children now have children, Nicolas,” Gabriel said. “What you see is the past. You see the first doll you gave young Greta, with its golden locks of shaven wood. Greta lovingly passed that toy on to her own daughter and this very year it was once again passed on to an eldest daughter, who cherishes it as dearly as did her grandmother. It is the same in many places where a Claus toy is found.”
“Can I see more?” Nicolas asked, his eyes brimming with happy tears. Gabriel consented and the two spent what seemed hours and days visiting village after village and time after time, seeing all the children who had received a Claus toy, each one lovingly cared for and often passed on to later children. Nicolas’ heart flowed with joy and peace when he saw what his gifts had done for all the children in the land. Nicolas laughed as he watched the children play and wept when a father or mother passed a toy on to their own child with such love in their eyes. His heart swelled when he saw his dolls, puppets, and wooden animals bring comfort to a lonely or sick child.
“There is one more child I wish you to see,” Gabriel informed the old toy-maker after what seemed like weeks of visiting all the children. “This one is very special and to him you gave the greatest gift you had to give.”
“Really? Who was it?” Nicolas asked, wondering which of his toys had been his greatest.
“Come and see.” The angel took Nicolas’ hand and they walked again into the light. They exited into a small dark cave, filled with straw and animals grazing lazily. Nicolas did not know this place. He was in a land he had never visited before; even the people were strange to him. He guessed the few men in this cave were shepherds, judging by the crooks they carried and the sheep surrounding them, but what they were doing in this cave he had no idea.
Gabriel led him through the small group of gathered men until they came to stand before a young couple. The man knelt beside his wife, who sat on the ground, a baby in her arms. When Nicolas beheld the baby he instantly realized who it was. “Gabriel is that—?”
“The very Savior you so lovingly worship. Go to him, it’s alright.”
Nicolas did so hesitantly. He walked up, removing the furry red cap from his head and wringing it nervously in his hands as he approached the virgin and her child. He gazed upon the child as he knelt before him and realized he had never seen a more beautiful child in all his life. It wasn’t a physical beauty he thought as he stared at the child through the tears in his eyes, but the splendor that shown on his tiny face, and the realization of the terrible and wonderful destiny that he would fulfill. Staring into that innocent face he thought he had never seen anything more beautiful.
“Would you like to hold him?” Mary asked him, moving to place the child in his arms before he had time to even think of a response.
“I couldn’t—” Nicolas began to protest, but then the child was in his arms, and the tears flowed freely down his face. “He is so beautiful,” he told the Savior’s mother in a choked whisper. “So, so beautiful. I love you, My Savior. I…have no words to express…I wish I could have given you a gift worthy of you.”
“But you did, Nicolas, don’t you see?” Gabriel asked as he knelt next to the old carpenter, bowing his head in adoration to mother and child. “You gave this child the greatest gift of all. You gave him your love. All your life you have worshipped him and never forgotten him. Every gift you lovingly gave to every child was a gift given to this child, the Lord of all. He loves children as you do, and cherishes each toy ever given as you do. You serve the Master by serving his children, and as all men are his children, and as you have spent your life serving them, you have spent your entire life in his service. And now Nicolas I have brought you here so that he may repay you. What gift would you ask of your Savior now?”
Nicolas did not know what to say and began to protest. “But he gave everything to me already. I have nothing that is not of Him. He is my Savior, He is my breath of life, what more could I ask?”
“And yet there is something you long to ask, and one gift yet he wants to give. Ask him your hearts desire, asking in faith, knowing that he would never refuse a gift asked in righteousness.”
“But what I want is not possible,” Nicolas argued.
“Remember always, Nicolas, for Him nothing is impossible,” the angel admonished. “Remember all he has done for you; when you needed strength to finish the toys you received it; when you need animals to pull your sleigh, he provided the reindeer; when you feared you had lost your way in the night, he inspired the villagers to light the way with candles. Every request you have made in righteousness has been given you. I know the gift you seek, you have but to ask. It is not so impossible a gift; others have sought it for similar reasons and received it as well. Again I say ask of him in faith, believing you shall receive it and it shall be even so.”
Nicolas hesitated a moment and then blurted, “I do not want my Maria to die. I do not want to die, ever. I wish to live, to live long enough to give every child in all the world that will receive it just one gift a year. I wish to celebrate your birth every year until you return again, by going out at Christmas to impart gifts to children throughout the world. It is the only thing I desire; to worship you and keep hope and brightness alive in the world until you come again.”
It is done, a voice that came from heaven itself said. Nicolas set the child reverently down and knelt before him in worship.
He stayed there until Gabriel touched his shoulder and bade him rise. “Come Nicolas, it is time to return home. Maria is waiting for you.”
She was indeed. The angel led him to his home and he found her their standing by the fire waiting for him. But it was not the home he had left. When he looked around he realized they were no longer in Spielzeugdorf, the village he had lived in all his life, or even in the same country. They were in another wintry kingdom, even farther to the north, where not a soul lived but his trusted reindeer friends, those who had been called to assist him in his labors, and his beloved wife looking as beautiful as the day they had met.
“Where is this place?” He asked the angel. “Why are we here?”
“This is your new home,” the angel explained. “It is far to the north of your old home. You could not stay there any longer. As loved as you are now when time passed and you grew no older the people would come to fear and mistrust and finally to hate you, for that is the way of most men. Here you will live in peace to go about your work. From here your work shall go forth once a year as you have done every year for so long.”
And so the legend began. It was whispered by some back in the Clauses’ homeland that they had gone off together to die. But when gifts began appearing on doorsteps and by fireplaces a new legend began and new tales were told. Some said that others had decided to take up the mantel of Santa Claus and continue his work. Others said that parents had taken up giving presents to their children in Santa’s name, to keep the spirit of giving alive. Still others knew, though they could not explain how, that Santa was still there working in his shop through the years to deliver toys to all the world’s children.
Stories of Santa Claus were told and passed from parent to child down through the ages. This is one of those stories and there are many more yet to be told. And so each year he goes forth in his sled full of toys, spreading his Christmas joy to children throughout the world, crying those well known words, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
