It
was that time of the year again. A delicious smell of bakery mixed with equal
amounts of bonhomie and excitement pervaded the air. The entire city was draped
with streamers of holly and tinsel. At night, it shone magnificently as if all
the stars in the universe had lowered their ropes and descended towards earth.
Christmas trees stood proudly, glittering with icicles and baubles. There was a
certain glow on every face and a twinkle in each passing eye, illuminated by
that wondrous thing called hope. The streets sparkled white with snow, chapels
were lit up with candles and ears reverberated with the comfortingly familiar
carols.
Things
up at the North Pole were quite different. Yes, the streets were buried in
sparkling white snow (like they are almost all year) but up in Saint Nicholas
drive, there was an air of tension and fervor. Elves scurried about in the
manufacturing department yelling out orders to each other.
“One Kindle
Snow White, coming up!”
“One icePhone4!”
“Oh damn it, you’ve produced the wrong version. We don’t have time for
mistakes!”
The place was a blur of green, with elves running about, pushing levers and
pressing buttons. Shiny gifts tumbled out of the whirring machine and darted
past on the conveyor belt producing stacks of gifts before you could say
‘Santa!’
Meanwhile, Santa sat in his cabin, his glasses perched on his nose, peering
into a bundle of letters amongst the millions scattered on his desk. He was
punching in numbers on his calculator swiftly, his eyebrows shooting up every
time he pressed ‘add’. After five hours, he was done with all the lists, of all
the children from every corner of the world, he removed his glasses and stared
glumly at the final number. He was one thousand five hundred seventy-two
dollars and 60 cents short of the money needed from his budget. He buried his
face in his hands and sobbed, “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
His belly rumbled feebly - he had skipped lunch. Few threads from his red robes
were forming burrs and fell off like soft snow. It was such a disaster! It was
downright embarrassing! A lot more than the most embarrassing event in his
life; when he got stuck while climbing down a chimney owing to gorging on too
many cookies. Children all over the world had sent in detailed wish-lists, he
could not disappoint them! His workshop’s Six Sigma certification could not be
compromised with, years had passed by and not even once had a child woken up to
an empty stocking on a Christmas morning. How on earth would he face the elves?
They were all expecting bonuses for all the hard work and overtime they were
putting in, he would be letting everybody down. He shook his head at the
prospect and looked at himself in the mirror - his hair though still a silvery
white, was thinning, owing to the stress of the past few months. His usually
flushed cheeks now looked sallow and little dark crescents had seemed to form
under his wrinkled eyes. He did not know whom to blame - the inflating economy,
the rise in demand and availability of luxury items or his own ill adaptation
to the ever-fluctuating market. Nobody wanted a good old book or a wooden train
any more, it was all about tablets and flashy remote operated cars. Maybe he
had gone old in the business and maybe the times demanded a young go-getter guy
with a fit body and a sharp mind - not a goofy old man with a rotund belly.
This was the only job he’d ever known, his destiny. All his life, he had never
known to do anything else. He sighed solemnly. He had already cut down all
expenses and if he put the house on mortgage for the leftover amount, he would
be plummeted into bankruptcy.
“Santa, Santa. Where are you? You must eat something!”
His
contemplative trance was broken, Mrs. Claus’ light footsteps were approaching
his cabin. Hurriedly, he hid all his paperwork.
“What? What is that you’re hiding?” demanded Mrs. Claus, her hands on her hips.
“Nothing.
Nothing at all. Why would I hide anything?” he smiled sheepishly, his hand
still trembling on the top drawer of his desk.
“Are
you eating those fattening cookies again? You know they’re no good for you. I
especially bought you low fat oatmeal ones. Remember what the doctor said?” Mrs.
Claus said sternly.
“Yes, of course,” he agreed, extending his hand to hold hers, “Thanks for
getting me tea, dear.”
She
immediately sensed something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
He
opened the drawer and showed her the paper.
Her eyes grew wider as they went down the list. “Oh, honey. I didn’t know we
had exceeded so much...”
She
knew that things were going rough on their household for quite a while. She had
relied on store coupons to buy cheap casseroles, bought an artificial Christmas
tree and had used a string of popcorn instead of tinsel - most of which the
reindeer had chewed up. Globalization had affected them adversely and cutting
off employees wasn’t an option - the elves were family.
“We will find a way, dear, don’t you worry,” she comforted him. “Finish up your
tea, now.”
Outside
in the snow, the carpenter elves were making some final touches on the sleigh
and all the reindeer flocked around.
“Why can’t we get a new shiny sleigh? This one creaks quite a lot. When was he
renamed to Saint Nickless?” a reindeer remarked sarcastically.
One of the other reindeer shouted, “Rude-olph is at it again!”
The others grimaced at Rudolph, clearly the fame had gotten into his head.
“I am sure the wheels will be as soft as a polar bear on an ice cap once I’m
done with it,” said the Chief Carpenter Elf confidently.
“Yes, give it a rest. Get into the yuletide spirit! And maybe Santa is saving
up to give us a fat bonus!” beamed another reindeer.
All of the reindeer cheered and lifted their antlers up happily in unison.
Inside the cottage, Mrs. Claus was pacing back and forth, her forehead crinkled
with worry, her usually arced up lips now in a frown.
“There must be a way, there must be a way,” she muttered to herself.
Her phone beeped. ‘It’s snowing sales on Frozon.com! Delivery within 24 hours
of purchases by artic foxes else guaranteed money back! Hurry till stocks
last!’
Trust online websites to make you feel
worse during times of distress.
“Mrs. Claus! I just had to tell your cookies are out of the world amazing!” squealed
an elf, his mouth covered with cookie crumbs, his squeaking shoes rushing into
the room.
Suddenly
an idea lit up in her mind like an angel atop a Christmas tree.
“Why, my dear. Thank you. Thank you so much, indeed,” she said, patting the
elf’s small square back.
She
called a small meeting consisting of Computer Engineer Elves, Delivery Elves,
Public Relations Elves and Manufacturing Unit Elves in her cabin.
“Hello, my dear elves. I have called all of you for a very important reason.
I’d like to tell you a secret that Santa has been hiding for long. We are short
of money from the budget.”
An
air of gasps rippled through the crowd, their faces stricken with shock and
panic.
“What
are we going to do? Christmas is less than a week away!” yelled one.
“Will
Christmas be cancelled this year?” quipped another.
A
fresh wave of frenzy rose through them.
“Calm
down, now. Panic will get us nowhere. We are going to save Christmas for Santa.
He needs you now, more than ever. So I have come up with a plan. We are going
to raise money for him.”
“How’re
we to do that? Money doesn’t grow on mistletoe, you know,” said a pudgy nosed
elf.
“I
will bake and sell North Poles’ best cookies online. They will be hot and
delivered fast by special reindeer service!” exclaimed Mrs. Claus, clapping her
hands with delight.
“You
mean your melt-in-mouth chocolate chip cookies? I would pay a bag of gold for
those!” cried out a pot-bellied elf.
“All
we need is a website, few extra pair of hands with me to be dusted in flour and
butter, delivery elves and a few reindeer!”
“But
what will the company be called?” said an excited elf.
“How
about Claus Cookies?” asked Mrs. Claus.
“Or
how about Frostbite? Like a pun. Bite..you know..because we’re going to eat
it.”, chuckled a pointy-eared elf.
“Him
and his silly puns again. Claus Cookies is a lot better!” said one of the
Public Relations Department’s Elves earnestly.
“Claus
Cookies, it is then! So much to do, so little time. Let’s go do it, let’s save
Christmas!” cheered Mrs. Claus enthusiastically.
Mrs.
Claus’ cabin was a humdrum of activity; her red robes were caked with flour and
she worked with dexterous speed. There were elves to sprinkle chocolate chips,
some of them were mixing the batter and a few were flattening the dough. The
happiest elves were found at the final testing section who got to taste one
cookie from each batch.
The
cookies were packed in shiny red tins and a green ribbon was tied around each.
The Engineer Elf who was furiously tapping away at his computer yelled, “We got
our very first order! 5 cookie boxes!”
Everybody
started applauding and Mrs. Claus said, “This journey is off to a great start!
Let’s keep moving.”
“Oh!
And our second order is up! A 100 boxes for a party downtown!” Engineer Elf
shouted, thrilled at being the messenger of good news.
The
whole room was a cacophony of hoots and whistles.
Mrs. Claus said, “Shh! Santa might hear us! It’s going to be a wonderful surprise!
We must send our reindeer off to work.”
Reindeer
carried glistening boxes of cookies with a pouch attached to their leg to
collect cash. Their business ran smoothly and owing to the good word of mouth,
orders mounted up high.
Mrs.
Claus’ neck was in a crick but her confidence was shooting high. She had always
dreamed of being an entrepreneur, finally that dream had come true.
It
was two days before Christmas and Santa touched his gold buckled belt idly. He
contemplated selling some of his stuff on Seabay. Tears branched through his
wrinkled skin and dissolved into his soft white beard.
Just
then there was a knock.
He
quickly brushed his tears away and said, “Come on in, it’s open.”
A
wide-eyed elf stood at the door and said, “Santa, will you come to the living
room? Mrs. Claus has a surprise for you.”
Santa
adjusted his belt, washed his face and trudged up to the living room.
The
place was plunged in complete darkness.
“Hello?
Anybody here?” Santa inquired suspiciously.
“SURPRISE!
SURPRISE!” Mrs. Claus and about a fifty elves bounced up from the furniture in
the living room, screaming and jumping with joy.
A
banner proclaiming ‘We love you Santa!’ in curlicue letters hung above the
mantelpiece.
Mrs.
Claus came to him and held his hands and said, “Dear, we raised two thousand
dollars and 40 cents!”
“But
how?” Santa asked, a quizzical expression on his face.
“Remember,
a day ago you were upset that a website was using the Claus’ name to sell
cookies? Well, my dear that was our website. And we sold like hot cakes! Sorry,
cookies.”
Mrs. Claus was grinning ear to ear, her fluffy cheeks pink with excitement.
Santa was reminded vividly of a very young Mrs. Claus, when he had given her a
penguin for their first anniversary.
“I’m
so proud and so relieved. Did I tell you that you’re the best?” Santa kissed
her forehead. “Thank you for saving Christmas and, thank you for saving me. You
are my Christmas miracle.”
An
audible round of sighs went among the elves and one particular emotional elf
took out his handkerchief and wept with happiness. “I hope one day, I get a lovely
pixie and our love is just like theirs,” he murmured.
“And
all of you!” Santa turned to the elves, “You’re the best family I could ask
for.”
He knelt on one knee and opened his arms into a wide hug wherein all the elves
clambered on.
The
fire crackled warmly and Santa slept snugly after days. The gifts were wrapped,
the sleigh replaced with the latest model - Sleighzoom
4.0. Homes around the globe were decorated, adorned with flat stockings
expectant of being swollen up the next morning, a glass of milk and cookies
expected to be wiped clean off the dining table, sparkling Christmas trees and
most importantly, a vibe of hope, compassion and merriment.
Mrs.
Claus smiled to herself, as she browsed for presents from Frozon.com for she
knew that sometimes Santa also needed a ‘Santa’.
