THE PUDDLE PIXIES - A BLUE CHRISTMAS - PART 1

It was almost Christmas, and Puddle Pixie Matthew was skipping merrily through the woods near the Fairpuddle, on his way to visit Puddle Pixie Luke, who was his Very Best Friend as well as his cousin.

 

Snow had already fallen and was quite deep in some places, but Matthew was warm and happy in his fur lined wellies and extra-warm mac.  His Mum, Puddle Pixie Teacher Miss Jessica had asked him to look out for any brightly coloured grasses or berries that might be useful for decorating their cottage for Christmas, so as he went he kept an eye open for anything suitable.  As he got to the edge of the Fairpuddle, he thought he saw a little splash of red and blue on the steep slope leading down to the puddle.  He stopped for a closer look, but saw nothing.  Thinking that he must have been mistaken, he turned to go on his way, but was stopped in his tracks by a voice calling:

 

‘Hey, Pixie, over here – I need your help!’

 

Matthew stopped again, and bent down to inspect a mound of snow where the voice had seemed to come from.

 

He fell backwards in shock as a blue hand emerged from the snowdrift.

 

‘Give us a hand then’ said the voice, rather crossly, Matthew thought.’  From the size of the hand, Matthew knew it wasn’t a Puddle Pixie, for his own hand was very much smaller than this one.

 

‘Hang on’ he called, and looked around for help.  He soon found a fallen branch, which he dragged back through the snow and placed near the hand, braced on two large stones.

 

‘Now grab that, and pull yourself up’ said Matthew.

 

Soon, after much grunting and groaning, a pixie-like person stood before him, he looked pretty much like an elderly Puddle Pixie, except that he was the height of three of the apples that humans liked to eat.  And there was one other difference – his skin was BLUE!

 

‘Well, what are you staring at?  Haven’t you ever seen a Smurf before?’

 

‘A Smurf?’  Matthew looked astonished.

 

‘I have heard of Smurfs before, but I thought it was just a story!  So you are real!’

 

The Smurf shook a cloud of snow out of his white curly beard.

 

‘Of course I am real – now are you going to stand here all day gawping, or are you going to help me find my way home?’

 

‘Oh sorry, I am forgetting my manners, I should have introduced myself, my name is Matthew Puddle Pixie’, said Matthew, privately thinking to himself that this Smurf was really rather rude.

 

‘I think the best thing I can do is to take you to the Elder; I am sure he will be able to solve your problem, he is very old and wise’.

 

A short while later, the pair were sitting in the Elder’s warm little cottage, drinking some delicious hot elderberry cordial.

 

‘Well Mr Smurf’ said the Elder, ‘If you have thawed out now I think you had better tell me your problem, starting with your name of course!’

 

‘How forgetful of me! They call me Papa Smurf.  I am the leader of the Smurfs – that’s why I wear this red cap and trousers!’

 

‘Yes’ said Matthew, that’s how I found you:  I thought I saw a flash of blue and red in the snowdrift, and I thought it might be a lost Puddle Pixie Palace football scarf someone had lost!’

 

Papa Smurf gave him a cross look, his white beard twitching with irritation, and Matthew thought he heard him muttering something about ‘silly pixies’, but being and amiable pixie and respectful of his elders, he let it go, and Papa Smurf continued :

 

‘I was just strolling through the Smurf Village, hoping to find a bit of holly to brighten up my room for Christmas, and maybe a nice little tree to hang some sweets on, when I heard the sound of giggling.  I had already got a few nice bits and pieces, mistletoe, dried berries and the like, on my cart and was about to turn round when….’

 

‘Matthew laughed:

 

‘Ha!  I bet I know what’s coming next! Goblins!’

 

‘Thank you Matthew, let Papa Smurf tell his tale; it’s not polite to interrupt!’

 

Looking annoyed again, the Smurf continued:

 

‘Yes it was a group of goblins – we’ve had a lot of trouble with some of them lately, and of course this time of year you can’t be too careful’.

 

The Elder nodded sympathetically as Papa Smurf went on:

 

‘One of them stood right in front of me and demanded I give them my holly and mistletoe.  Of course I refused, but then behind them I saw a group of Wicked Witches; the goblins took my cart and ran up to them with all my greenery, but they didn’t seem very happy, and I ran off as fast as my old legs would carry me. I am more than 500 years old, you know!’

 

‘Me too’ said the Elder, as Papa Smurf went on:

 

‘I went straight to my friend Alchemist Smurf, who has been helping me with all sorts of magical experiments, hoping we could make some sort of potion that we could put all round the village to protect it from all folk of evil intent.  Sure enough, he soon produced such a liquid, and we made a magic ring all round us – but later, when I stepped outside the circle to see what I could see, it would not let me back in!  I called, and shouted, until Al came to see what had occurred, and then hurried off to invent an anti-potion – after all, the idea was to keep bad people out, not Smurfs! Anyway, while I walked round the circle waiting for him to come back, along came the Wicked Witches!  How they cackled at my plight!  One said:

 

‘Ah, poor Papa Smurf, we can help you!’

 

They then uttered some sort of spell, and suddenly, BANG!  Here I was buried up to the top of my head in snow!  I suppose I should thank this young Puddle Pixie for saving me!’ he said rather grudgingly.

 

‘I see’, said the Elder.  ‘Now you are wondering how you can get back home and sort the whole thing out!’

 

Papa Smurf nodded, biting thoughtfully on a Christmas cookie.

 

‘I think my old friend the Lord High Merlin, the most clever, most magical person in the world the universe and everything is the wizard for this conundrum!’

 

And he pulled out his magic crystal, passed his hands over the clear glass, and said:

 

            ‘MAGIC CRYSTAL SHINING BRIGHT

            BRING LORD MERLIN TO YOUR LIGHT’.

 

A swirling mist appeared inside the crystal. Then as it cleared, the face of a very elderly wizard with a long white beard appeared.

 

‘Hello my old friend, is everything alright?’  Said Merlin, and sneezed loudly.

 

The Elder noticed that his friend’s face was even paler than usual, except for his nose, which was as red as Rudolf’s.

 

‘Oh, my dear fellow, you don’t look at all well, and I have a favour to ask you’.

 

And he explained Papa Smurf’s problem. Merlin listened carefully, sniffing every few seconds.

 

‘Well, old friend, you may ask of course, but as you see, I have a very nasty bout of wizard flu, so my magic is not getting through very well at present; anyway, when it comes to magic for myself, it seldom works!  Anyway we will have a try to help Papa Smurf.  Go back to where you found him, and recite this spell’.

 

A piece of paper appeared in a flurry of snow in the warm air of the cottage, and floated to the floor.  The Elder picked it up and read it, then nodded his head.

 

‘If it doesn’t work, I am afraid you may have to wait until I am better.  Now I must get back to bed and rest my weary bones.’  He coughed quietly.  ‘Good luck’.

 

The three hurries back to the snowdrift, and the Elder read out the spell in his most important voice:

 

                         By holly and by mistletoe

                        May Papa Smurf now homeward go.

                        By snow and ice and frost I shout

                        LET SMURFS IN – KEEP WITCHES OUT!

 

Nothing happened.  The Elder tried again.  Nothing.

 

‘Oh dear’ said the Elder‘, It looks like you’ll have to wait until Merlin is well enough to re-do the spell!  You are quite welcome to stay with me til then.  In fact I would be glad of the company of someone of my own age!’

 

And so Papa Smurf returned with the Elder to his cottage, and Matthew continued his walk to Luke and Jack’s house.

 

When he told his cousins Papa Smurf’s story, Jack, who was a very clever Puddle Pixie indeed, said:

 

‘Why didn’t you ask me?  I bet I know someone who could help!’

 

The two younger Puddle Pixies looked at him expectantly, both saying : ‘Who?  Who do you mean?’

 

‘Why,’ said Jack, ‘Father Christmas of course!’