Christmas is Cancelled

Father Christmas walked around his workshop. All of the elves were
working very hard. They sang and they danced as they packed the
presents into the sacks. Father Christmas patted a few heads as he
passed by.

"Keep up the good work, my little friends," he said.

As Father Christmas turned to leave he heard the soft sobs of someone
crying. He looked around. At first he couldn't see anyone. Then he
heard the sobs again. He looked under the table, and there he was.
Nicky, his son.

"Why are you crying?" asked Father Christmas.

Nicky looked up at his father. He wiped away his tears. "I'm
cry?crying, 'cos you won't let me help you deliver the presents
tomorrow night."

Father Christmas sat down on his chair. He lifted Nicky onto his
knee.

"I told you yesterday, son. You can't come with me because you are too
young and far too small. What would a child think if he saw you instead
of me?"

"But father, I would be ever so quiet. No one would hear nor see me.
Please, please, please let me go with you," sobbed Nicky.

"No son, and that's my final word on this matter," said Father
Christmas, as he lifted his son off his knee.

The following morning Father Christmas arose bright and early. Today
was the day. The most important day of the year, Christmas Eve. He went
into the bathroom to wash, and comb his long flowing beard. He looked
into the mirror.

"OH NO," he yelled. "Mother Christmas come here quickly," he
shouted.

Mother Christmas jumped out of bed. "Whatever is the matter?" she
shouted, as she put on her dressing gown. Mother Christmas threw the
bathroom door open wide. And what she saw made her gasp. Father
Christmas was covered in big bright red spots.

"Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. I think that you may have the
measles."

"But, what shall I do?" asked Father Christmas. "I can't deliver
presents to the children now. I could give them the measles. I have no
choice, I shall have to cancel Christmas."

"Cancel Christmas. You can't do that," replied Mother Christmas. "You
go back to bed, perhaps you might think of a way to deliver the
presents."

Father Christmas went back to bed. He scratched his long white beard.
"Funny," he thought to himself, "I don't feel ill."

There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in," called Father
Christmas. It was Nicky.

"Hello father. Mother says that you have got the measles. Are you
really going to cancel Christmas?" Nicky asked.

"Yes son, I have to. There isn't anyone else who can do it."

Nicky jumped up. "Father, I could do it. You could tell me where to go
and what to do. I know I could do it, please let me help you."

Father Christmas stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Mmmmmm. I could take
you on the sleigh. Then you could deliver the presents down the
chimneys. Do you think you could be quiet?"

Nicky nodded and smiled. "Yes father, I can do it. And I promise that
you won't be sorry for trusting me." Nicky ran off to tell his mother
the good news.

At midnight the reindeer were ready. They were loaded up with a huge
sack full of toys for the children all around the world. Father
Christmas and Nicky set off. It was a clear starlit night. It had been
snowing all day but now it had stopped. It wasn't long before the first
of the houses could be seen from the sky.

"Whoa there," said Father Christmas, as he tugged at the reins.

The reindeer landed gracefully onto the rooftop. Father Christmas
looked at his list. He searched the sack for the right presents. When
he'd found them he gave them to Nicky.

"Now son," he said. "Take these presents down the chimney, and make
sure that you don't awaken the children."

Nicky took the presents. "Yes father, I mean no father. I mean, yes
I'll be very quiet, and no I shan't awaken the children."

Soon Nicky was back. He was grinning from ear to ear. "I did it father,
and guess what? There were mince pies and a glass of sherry." Nicky
handed the sherry and pies to his father. Father Christmas drank the
sherry and Nicky ate the mince pies.

Father Christmas was pleased with his son. House after house they
called at. Street after street. Town after town, and country after
country. As they arrived in Sweden the weather was very bad. It was
snowing heavily. Huge flakes fell down on them.

Father Christmas pulled out his handkerchief to wipe the snow away from
his face. As he was about to put his handkerchief away he noticed that
it was bright red. He got another handkerchief out of his pocket. He
wiped his face again. His handkerchief was bright red again. Father
Christmas was puzzled. He looked into the mirror on the side of one of
the reindeer. His beard was also bright red. He looked into the mirror
again. The spots on his face had vanished.

"Strange," Father Christmas muttered. He turned to his son. But Nicky
was trying to wriggle away. "What do you know about this?" he
asked.

"I?I?I'm sorry, but it's your fault. If only you'd let me come in the
first place, I wouldn't have done it," Nicky replied.

"What do you mean you're sorry? What have you done?"

"W?e?ll, I thought that if you were ill you would have to let me
deliver the presents. S?o, in the middle of the night, I got up and
painted red spots on your face with my red felt tip pen. Hey presto,
you had measles. I was sort of hoping that the spots would fade slowly
and you wouldn't notice. I?I'm really sorry, father." Nicky looked down
at his hands, teardrops falling slowly down onto his mittens.

"SORRY, sorry you say. You could have ruined Christmas for all of the
children with your stupidity. I shall deal with you when we get
home."

Father Christmas finished delivering the presents, and he and Nicky
went home. After they had both changed and ate breakfast Father
Christmas called Nicky into his study.

"Stand there," ordered Father Christmas.

Nicky stood in front of his father. He looked up at him and said:
"Please father, will you listen to what I have to say first? When I'm
finished I will take any punishment that you want to give me."

"OK," replied Father Christmas.

"Well, it's like this, father. All year round you plan for all of the
children around the world. Anything they want you give to them. All I
ever asked from you was to let me help you, and you wouldn't let me.
You care for them more than you care for me." Nicky gulped back a sob
and looked at his father.

Father Christmas was shocked at first. Then he thought carefully about
what his son had said. He felt ashamed. It was true. He did think about
all of the children, but that was his job. But he should have paid
attention to his own son as well.

Father Christmas stood up. He walked over to his son and put his arms
around him. "Come here son," he said. "How could I have been so stupid.
You are right of course. I should have listened to you. Instead, I have
been an old fool. Will YOU forgive ME?" asked Father Christmas.

Nicky put his arms around his father. "Yes, I'll forgive you, but only
if you promise to listen to me in the future."

"Thank you," said Father Christmas. "Now time for bed, I think. After
all it is Christmas and maybe someone may have left something very
special for you at the bottom of your bed."

A few minutes later Father Christmas heard squeals of joy. He knew that
Nicky had found his Christmas present. He heard Nicky running down the
stairs. Then the study door flew open. Nicky stood there panting.

"You knew didn't you, father?"

"Yes son," answered Father Christmas. "Do you like your Christmas
present?"

Nicky's eyes glistened with tears. "How could I not like it? My very
own sleigh. AND a dog to pull it. Thank you, father. But how did you
know?"

"Because son, that's my job. Merry Christmas Nicky."

Nicky hugged his father and said: "Merry Christmas, father, and I love
you."

"I know son, and I love you too."

Nicky ran off to play with his Christmas present. Father Christmas
climbed the stairs to bed. "Whew, what a night. Merry Christmas
everyone."

THE END