The Star of Christmas
written by: Philippa Hawley
@philippa_hawley
Father Christmas woke up early on Christmas Eve morning, with a thumping head and a rasping sore throat. He tried to phone the Director of Elves to say he’d need extra help but found he’d completely lost his voice.
Dash it, he thought.
He must have caught a bug when visiting Mrs. Christmas in hospital. Poor love, she’d fallen and broken her hip but was making good progress. She hoped to be home in a few days, so he had to be better by then. They always had their celebration day on December 28th when the rest of the world had calmed down.
The reindeer and elves should jolly well be here by now, he worried. Still in his pyjamas, he could hardly move. The phone buzzed and his body creaked as he reached for the handset. When he tried to speak, only a squeak came out. On the other end he heard a little voice saying, ‘sorry, wrong number’.
An hour later the doorbell rang. He managed to stagger to the door and there stood his friend, Tinkerbell. She wore big leather boots and held a thick fur coat round her shoulders. Her lacy, frilled silver dress peeped out beneath. Christmas shook his head, pointed to his throat and waved her in.
‘I did try to call but thought I’d got a wrong number,’ she announced, placing her hand on his forehead. ‘My goodness, you’re really quite unwell, aren’t you? Have you taken any potions or medicines?’
He shook his head and collapsed back onto the settee.
‘I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen,’ she said.
Tinkerbell, usually so dainty, stomped into the kitchen and eventually returned with a tray full of herbal vapour rubs, lozenges and a drink of lemon and ginger with added honey. She quickly administered everything she possibly could to her pyrexial friend.
’You’re “Father useless” without Mrs. Christmas, aren’t you?’ she teased. ‘The kitchen is in chaos but at least she keeps a good medicine cabinet.’
His voice returned, deep and groaning. ‘How will I manage to end the season without her. She’s the one who feeds and prepares the reindeer and elves for their busy day. She chivvies them along when they do the packing and tells me in what order to make my deliveries.’ Tears gathered in his puffy eyes.
‘Come now, enough of that, we can handle this. I think outside I can hear the elves with their reindeer arriving this very minute. Noisy bunch aren’t they, tell me what they eat?’ Tinkerbell asked firmly. ‘Give me a quick to-do list and then it’s back to bed for you.’
Christmas felt too weak to object.
Sometime later, he woke from a doze, to see Tinkerbell at the foot of his bed with her hands chapped, arms scratched, cheeks flushed and straw in her ruffled fair hair.
‘All under control,’ she told him with a grin. ‘Rudolf’s taking charge and I’ll be sending them all on their way just in time.’
‘Sorry my dear, one more problem,’ he croaked, ‘no star atop the Trafalgar Square tree! I think I’ve lost the wretched thing; I’ve been so busy visiting Mrs. Christmas I’ve let things slip.’ Tears dripped down and his beard twitched.
‘I know, I’ll fly up and be a fairy on top instead. It’ll make a nice change from the star, and no-one will be able to see how messy I am when I’m up so high. I can switch on a twinkling spell, and watch the world go by. There you are, decision made, and as they say, Santa’s your uncle.’
- The Star of Christmas - December 14, 2023
- The Christmas Eve Dragon - December 23, 2020
