There was her father’s oak desk sitting in the centre of the room with shafts of moonlight cutting across the surface.
She tip toed over, climbed up in his big comfy chair, reached into her pocket and took out a piece of paper. Opening the top drawer she removed a pen. She flattened the paper on the desktop with her hands and looked down onto the letter she was writing.
Violet started to read her letter:
Dear Santa,
Ever since I was a little girl I have written you asking for whatever I wanted for Christmas. I never thought about what anyone else wanted, only me.
Santa, this year I am asking for something special. It’s not a toy that I want, but for my mom to come and spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day downstairs with us.
You see Santa, she is sick and daddy says won’t get better. I told him maybe mommy just needed more vitamins, but he told me that the doctor was giving her all the medicine that she needed.
A little while ago when she started to get really tired all the time, we had to stop playing at the park; she said pushing me on the swing was too hard for her. She stopped playing games with me and we stopped going for our special walks in the forest where we always looked for magical things like owls or fairies or unicorns.
Soon mommy couldn’t make my pancakes or oatmeal or sandwiches or yummy cookies like she used to. She stopped doing crafts with me because she said it made her too tired.
Now she stays in her bedroom most of the time, lying in her bed. Daddy says I can go up to see her twice a day but I have to be quiet – (very difficult for a nine year old girl you know).
Sometimes when I go up, I climb up on her bed and we snuggle together under her quilt, but I have to be very careful, daddy says. Mommy’s bones are hurting so I can only snuggle up gently beside her and hold her hand.
So Santa, would you make mommy better for Christmas Day? Would you bring her a pretty pair of dancing shoes and a beautiful ball gown with sparkles all over it? Pink please, because that’s her favourite colour. She really loves to dance and used to dance with me all the time. And, sometimes when they thought I was asleep I would sneak down the stairs and watch mommy and daddy dancing around the living room.
North Pole
H0H 0H0
Just before she dropped it on the tray with the mail, she sealed the envelope with a kiss and a wish that Santa would get this letter fast and send her what she asked for.
___________________________________________________________________
The days went by quickly as Christmas drew closer. The bitter cold of winter lay over the ground like a blanket.
Winter in Galen’s Bay, where they lived is heartless, the cold biting into every nook and cranny. The temperature dips below zero and the wind whips up the water on the Bay into a cacophony of icy dancers who in their wild abandon cover everything with a fine misting of ice. The once earthy colours of the roofs now shimmer in the sunlight with layer after layer of ice laid across the roofs like blankets over a bed.
Violet stayed inside more often now, because the bitter winds licked at her face like icy needles, forcing her to run for cover whenever she tried to play outside.
However, before Violet could say Christopher Robin and Pooh Bear, it was Christmas Eve. After dinner that evening, Violet and her dad hung their three stockings, one each for daddy, mommy and her by the fireplace. Then he swept her up on his shoulders and carried her up the stairs to bed, where after a bedtime story, “The Velveteen Rabbit” -
(Violets favourite you know), he tucked her in soundly and told her to go to sleep quickly so Santa could come.
At this point I must say, that all good children know that they must be in bed asleep so Santa can deliver their gifts.He switched on her favourite night light, the violet one with beads hanging all around the shade which she got from her favourite aunt for Christmas last year. When the light was turned on the beads sparkled and danced. She loved to lie in her bed and watch the beads shimmer and sparkle and dance around the room when she swished over them with her finger.
Soon Violet was off to dreamland, but suddenly something woke her. She stayed quiet for a moment, listening and hearing the quiet tinkling of her mother's music box. Rubbing her eyes she sat up straining to listen. She was sure now, she definitely heard the music box playing.
She slipped out of her bed, padding quietly across the stairs and slowly opened her door so it didn’t squeak
(sometimes it did you know, so she opened it very slowly). Then she continued out across the hall and the closer she got to the staircase, the louder the music became. She sat down on the top stair and ever so slowly started to slide down, one stair at a time until she got to the landing. She peaked through the railing and saw a glow shining from the living room,
(this is the room where the fireplace and Christmas tree are).Was it possible that Santa was here?
What would happen if he saw her?
Would he take back everything he had left under the tree?
Violet didn’t know what to do – should she keep going down the stairs or turn around and try to go back to her bed before she was discovered?
The sound of the tinkling music box enticed her. Like a cat, her curiosity was aroused so she kept moving forward, slowly slipping down each stair until she reached the bottom.
Now she was sure that she heard whispering coming from the living room and then she thought she heard soft laughter - it sounded like her mother. How could that be? She knew that mommy was upstairs in bed and too sick to come down to the living room.
So Violet walked on tip toe towards the living room, slowly, quietly, holding her breath so no one would hear her. As she reached the doorway, she saw hundreds of lit candles around the room throwing a soft glow on everything they touched. Her mother's open music box was sitting on a table in the doorway playing a beautiful song. Then she saw daddy dancing. As he slowly spun around, there in his arms was her mom wearing the most beautiful pink gown covered in beads and sequins. On her feet were pink ballet slippers with satin ribbons criss-crossed around her legs and tied in a beautiful bow. Her strawberry blond hair fell in cascades and curls across her shoulders and down her back. She had a pink satin ribbon tied around her head to keep her hair off her face. And ..... she looked radiant.
How could she be dancing? Just earlier today she had been too tired to even spend time chatting in bed with Violet.
Now Violet was sure she must be dreaming. But as she came into the room, she looked towards the corner, and there sitting in daddy’s big old comfy chair was an old man with a very long, very curly, very white beard. His eyes were twinkling and he tapped his toes on the floor to the music as daddy and mommy danced and dipped and swirled around the room. Her mother’s dress swished and sparkled in the candlelight.
Violet came into the room and when her daddy suddenly saw her, he swept her up into his arms. He and mommy wrapped their arms around her. Their love was like a blanket as she was held between them and felt herself spinning dizzily around and around as they danced to the music.
They danced like this together for a few moments until the tinkling from the music box slowly wound down.
Then Violet got down and went over to the old
man who she just knew was Santa.
"Santa, you came and brought my mommy her dress and shoes so she could dance with daddy," said Violet.
"But how could she come down the stairs and dance when her bones hurt so much and she is too tired to even play a game with me?” Violet asked Santa.
“Oh Violet, your beautiful letter, so unselfish touched my heart. You asked for nothing for yourself, only for your mommy to be well enough to dance in a beautiful dress. When Mrs. Claus read your letter, she insisted that I make sure you got this one thing you asked for,” Santa said.
Violet couldn't believe her eyes or ears.
Santa continued, “Violet if you look closely, miracles happen every day, very ordinary things, but miraculous things – you just need to know where to look.
Anything is possible Violet, when you believe. So never stop believing, as you grow older you must become the keeper of this secret and teach your children to believe.”
Violet sat on Santa’s lap and watched as daddy wound up the music box and again he and mommy danced around the room, the sparkles on her dress reflecting the candlelight and throwing sparks of coloured lights around the room dancing like fairies.
Slowly she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the wonderful Christmas Day they would spend together when she opened her eyes in the morning .................