“Stop that dreadful noise! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” shrieked Mrs. Claus, jabbing her elbow into Santa’s solar plexus.
With a ferocious “Humph!” Santa flung one arm across his wife’s face and turned over. The noise began again.
Sobbing, Momma Claus flung back the covers and struggled from the big brass bed. Her feet slid into cherry red slippers that swished as she shuffled down the stairs to the warm, fragrant kitchen.
“Move over, Pippin,” she whispered, sinking into the soft cushions beside the littlest elf. The comfy old sofa creaked in protest, but Mrs. Claus was soon fast asleep with the proverbial sugar plums dancing in her head.
•••
The elves were back. Pumpkin’s shoulder pushed against the enormous sack, as Puck and Penny tugged it through the cottage doorway. “Lotsa mail today! It’s awful heavy!” Puck pulled the ribbon and envelopes of every size—yellow and green, red and blue—spilled out.
“Ee, look. This one’s addressed to YOU!”
“Go on with you, you ‘orrible little tease,” Momma chuckled merrily, “Why would anyone write to me?”
Puck waved the bright red envelope in Momma’s face. It began, “Dear Mrs. Claus, We don’t want to upset Santa but this year we want something different……..” The words blurred. Momma’s fingers brushed her cheek. The children didn’t want Santa to come? She sat down heavily.
Mrs. Claus knew that life was often ugly—except at Christmas of course—but were children really that worried about their planet, their future…their very lives? What could have happened to their simple world full of of joy? Who destroyed the blessed peace and security of childhood—such that children turned for help to Santa, their symbol of love? Momma thought her heart would break. Santa couldn’t bring them a carefree childhood.
There was nothing, nothing at all she could do—except pray. Weeping softly, Momma Claus clasped her hands on her knees and bent her head.
•••
She landed hard on the floor.
Dawn was stealing softly through the warm cozy kitchen. Momma winced, wriggling her shoulders back and forth to undo the kinks; she felt as if she hadn’t slept a wink. Such a horrible dream!
The kettle whistled and, as she moved towards it, a loud thump echoed from above stairs; Santa was awake! “Coffee’s on,” she called. “The elves are up. They’ve gone for the mail.”
The door flew open with a thud as Puck and Penny heaved the enormous sack through the doorway. “Lotsa mail today! It’s awful heavy,” Penny carolled. Grinning cheerfully she pulled the ribbon and pretty envelopes spilled out—red and yellow, green and blue. “And, of course, they’re all for Santa!”
Momma Claus heaved a huge sigh. “Thank for Good Lord for that!” she said, pouring coffee into Santa’s reindeer mug. She smiled half-heartedly, “After all, it was only a silly dream.”
