Christmas Story

Southland Times, Issue 21581, 19 December 1931, Page 19

Christmas Story

SANTA CLAUS. Billy was leaning over the garden gate, his eyes dreamy and thoughtful. It was summertime and Christmas-time and he was very, very happy. For one wonderful week he had lived in a whirl of excitement—there had been such wonderful preparations going on. Billy had helped to stir the pudding; he had assisted with the wrapping of presents; he had spent glorious half-hours in the kitchen watching his mother and big sister making pies and cakes and all sorts of Christmas goodies; and then best of all he had helped to decorate the house with greens and paper decorations until it was as gay and colourful as even he could desire. And now it was Christmas Eve and to-night—Billy thrilled at the thought of it—to-night

Mummie was going to take him up the town to see Santa Claus, yes, Santa Claus himself! He spent a lot of time wondering what this wonderful person would be like. “Nice and fat, I expect,” he said to himself, “with a sort of woolly-looking face like he has in pictures, and wee smilecrinkles round his eyes. And I’ll see him to-night—Santy!” Billy sighed rapturously. He didn’t want to play or do anything to pass the time away. He was content just to think about it and look forward to it with an ever-growing excitement. "Things that come as surprises arc nice,” he would say, “but it’s nicer still to look forward to a good time. It makes it such a lot niore fun.”

He was still leaning over the gate in a state of blissful anticipation when another little boy came pattering along the footpath. It was Tony, one of Billy’s mates. He was seven, a whole year older than Billy, who thought him quite a wonderful person. “Isn’t it lovely!” he said, looking up at Tony with the shining happiness of Christmas time glowing deep in his brown eyes. “Isn’t what lovely?” asked the other little boy.

“Everything,” Billy toki him. “Christmas.... oh, Tony, did you know that Santa Claus will be in our town to-night? Mummie’s taking me to see him; are you going?” “No!” said Tony, striving to appear indifferent, but unable to keep the break of longing out of his voice. “No, and anyway he won’t be there, because there isn’t any Santa Claus!” Billy gasped and his friend rushed on. “There isn’t—Jimmie Smith told me! And if there’s no Santa Claus, then everything else about Christmas is silly!” There was a very bitter, hurt look in Tony’s eyes. “Then —then who is it fills your sock?” demanded Billy. ’There must be a Santa Claus!”

“There isn’t—it’s just a have. Jimmie told me—” But Billy suddenly laughed in joyous amusement. Billy, so gloriously sure himself, so indignant that anyone else should doubt! “Oh, Jimmie Smith’s just- a silly!” he said. “Of course there’s a Santa. Don’t take any notice of him!” Tony walked on, his thin little freckled face still troubled, though there was slowly dawning the conviction that Jimmie was after all “just a silly,” that there was a really truly Santa Claus who would be visiting the town that night. Only he, Tony, wouldn’t see him. Lucky Billy, with a Mummie to take him to treats of this kind. Billy stared after his little mate for a while and then walked inside where mother was busy with pen and ink and a box of Christmas cards. ‘Tony’s so silly,’' said Billy. “He thinks there isn’t a Santa Claus. I expect it’s because he hasn’t got a mummie to tell him about things.”

Mother looked up from her writing, and said “Poor little Tony! Of course' there’s a Santy, Billy—we’ll see him to-night. Now I wonder if Tony would like to come with us and see him too?” She said that because she was the sort of mummie who liked to see all little boys happy, especially at Christmas time. Billy’s smile was delighted. “Why he’d have to believe in him then, if he saw him, wouldn’t he? I’ll go and tell him now!”

So when Tony heard Billy’s flying footsteps behind him he turned round and wondered at the gladness of Billy's face and the eagerness in his eyes. And then, when Billy told him, his thin little face flushed and his blue eyes shone, and somehow he felt so happy that the last lingering doubt fled and he was just as certain of Santy as was Billy. It was just beginning to grow dark, when Mother, with a small boy at each side, set out for the busier streets of the city—and Santa Claus. Billy was so filled with joy that his happiness was almost an ache. He looked up into the darkening cup of the sky, that would be so soon frosted over with stars, and wondered if, somewhere, away up in that emptiness of blue, Santa Claus was flying in his magic sleigh, drawn by the fairy reindeer. The tricky dusk wind that fanned his cheeks seemed to be whispering of Santy and the scent of summer flowers that drifted to them from gardens they passed seemed suggestive of all the good things Christmas brings. Billy was almost sorry when they reached the tram-car—he wanted the even-

ing to last as long as possible—but all the same he loved riding in trams. He loved their lurching, swaying motion, loved their clanging and banging, and loved to stare out the window while the houses slipped past, as though they were running away. Tony was very quiet. His eyes were wide with excitement. “I’m so glad Daddy let me come with you,” he said once squeezing Billy’s mummie’s hand. The tram stopped with a jerk in the busy main street, and the little boys scrambled out with mother, and looked about them in wonderment. It was like fairyland. Through the velvety greyness of the darkness that was beginning to creep silently down about the city, the lovely sparkling lights were gleaming with a Christmasy brilliance. Such lota and lots of lights. Billy loved watching them; the great staring eyes of cars that slid softly up and down the street; the sliding gold and ruby lights that beckoned and allured on the trams; the crimson and white and yellow clusters that were alight all along the street, above the shop windows. Those windows too, were lovely. He longed to flatten his little nose against the glass and feast his eyes on all the beautiful things therein. But they didn’t have time to wait. Billy looked up at the cool, star-misted sky, as he trotted along with his hand in Tny’s, and then he looked at the faces of the people as they passed and saw that they were all smiling; saw too, that when people bumped into each other they only laughed and didn’t mind a bit. He knew that it was the spirit of Christmas that made everyone so happy, and thought that he’d never heard of sweeter music than the rhythmic tap, tap of the busy feet. Oh, Christmas was splendid! Then, quite suddenly, Mother was guiding him and Tony off the pavement and into a big building, and presently they found themselves in a large room filled with children and a sprinkling of grownups. There was laughter everywhere, laughter and happy voices. To Tony and Billy it sounded like the buzzing of hundreds of bees at first. They were a little bit bewildered and then they saw the Christmas tree and forgot everything else. Such a sparkly, spangly tree it was with such fairydike toys that it quite took their breath away. Then they heard a faint little tinkling of bells—“Santy’s reindeer bells,” whispered mother -—and in a moment in walked Santy himself looking exactly as Billy had known and Tony had hoped he would. Very soon Santa Claus began to take down the toys from the tree and presently he was handing them out to' the wide-eyed little boys and girls, with such a jolly, loveable smile of good comradeship. Wien it was their turn Billy was given a lovely ball and Tony a beautiful spinning top. His eyes grew bigger than ever. It was such a lovely top of such beautiful bright colours, and when he set it going it spun withsuch a delightful purring sound. “It looks and sounds like Christmas,” said Tony and the hurt look was quite gone from his eyes and replaced by a new, soft happiness. He had forgotten Jimmie Smith’s nonsense about there being no Santy. He knew now there was a Santa Claus who was just as real as himself. “You were right, Billy,” he said. “Fancy me thinking it wasn't true!” and he clutched his beautiful Christmas top very tightly in both hands. —Cousin Katherine O’Brien (16), Haldane, Tokanui.