What Really Happened

I woke to the most delicious warmth so I kept my eyes closed at first. And the smell of, what was it? Oh, cinnamon, the best spice of all.

I almost fell asleep again, but the cheery jangle of a bell woke me up. I opened my eyes as a draught of air came across me and the warmth ebbed away in a blur of movement and brightness.

Then I was lifted up and put down again on a cool surface, as a woman said, “I’ll have that one, he looks jolly.”

Fingers reached for me and the face of a young lass loomed over me, smiling and saying, “Yes, he does.”

I was not having this. I was not having this at all. I sprang to my feet and jumped away from the grasping hand.

The bell jangled and I saw my opportunity. I jumped down to the floor and ran out the door just as it was closing.

Outside, it was much colder. I shivered as I looked around. There were people everywhere like giants rushing hither and thither in the High Street carrying bags of shopping.

A snowflake landed on my head and melted, cold and moist.

Behind me, the bell jangled again and the young lass came out in her baker’s apron and hurried toward me.

I ran! I ran and I jumped and I laughed at the surprised faces that noticed me.

I looked behind me and saw the young lass running after me.

“Wait! I’ll catch him,” shouted a young man in a bright red scarf, “and then you will owe me a kiss.”

She glanced over her shoulder, blushing, and told him, “Not if I catch him first.”

So I ran from the young lass, her baker’s apron fluttering, and I ran from the young man, his red scarf flapping, and I dodged the falling snowflakes as much as I could.

I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran.

Just then, a small brown dog with a green collar came out of a lane onto the High Street. He stared at me and blinked and then he barked a hungry bark that made me shiver.  

I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop.

So I ran from the young lass, her baker’s apron fluttering, and I ran from the young man, his red scarf flapping, and I ran from the small brown dog, his green collar jingling, and I dodged the falling snowflakes as much as I could.

I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran.

“Harley, here!” shouted a man somewhere behind us all. “Harley, here boy, good dog!”

Good dog maybe, I thought, but not when he is hungry.

I ran faster and glanced over my shoulder and saw the tall man in a big purple coat racing after the small brown dog.

I have got to get away, I thought.  

I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran.

I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop.

So I ran from the young lass, her baker’s apron fluttering, and I ran from the young man, his red scarf flapping, and I ran from the small brown dog, his green collar jingling, and I ran from the tall man, huffing and puffing in his big purple coat, and I dodged the falling snowflakes as much as I could.

I ran so much that I didn’t feel the cold any more.

I ran so much that I laughed and laughed.

I ran so much that I would outrun them all.

A small boy in a bright yellow jacket shouted, “Look! It’s a gingerbread man!”

 “You won’t catch me,” I shouted back.

So I ran from the young lass, her baker’s apron fluttering, and I ran from the young man, his red scarf flapping, and I ran from the small brown dog, his green collar jingling, and I ran from the tall man, huffing and puffing in his big purple coat, and I ran from the small boy shouting “look, look” in his bright yellow jacket, and I dodged the falling snowflakes as much as I could.

I ran and I ran and I ran and I ran.

I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop, I wouldn’t stop.

Ahead of me, on the corner of the High Street, snow was swirling thickly and then a mist appeared.

Out of the mist stepped Father Christmas, smiling at me, red and white and magical. He extended his hand and I jumped up. “Ho ho ho!” he said. “I will have more than enough biscuits and cookies and cakes tonight, but I would appreciate your company on the long journey.”

So I jumped up and perched on his shoulder, where I settled myself comfortably, catching my breath after all that running. “That sounds like fun,” I said as he carried me into the mist and drifting snowflakes.

***

Happiness filled every particle of my gingerbread form.

I had fallen asleep on a very comfortable red cushion next to Father Christmas by the time the reindeer were flying us back to the North Pole with an empty sleigh. 

Perching on his shoulder, I had travelled all over the world in one single night as he delivered gifts to all the good little girls and boys under cloudy skies and through starlit darkness.

The sleigh bells woke me as the sleigh landed smoothly and the reindeer ran forward a short distance before slowing and stopping under the grey light before proper dawn.

“All to do next year, I suppose,” said Father Christmas.

“With bells on,” a softer voice answered.

I stretched and sat up, looking around to see a white-haired woman whose eyes sparkled as she smiled at me.

Having heard the phrase often during the night, I said, “Every gift melts the snow around someone’s heart.”

“Very true, little one,” she responded. “I am Mother Christmas. Welcome to the North Pole.”

I looked around at the snowy landscape occupied only by snow-covered trees and a long building which I understood to be stables whose roof was heaped with snow. “Thank you,” I said politely, though I missed the warmth and the cinnamon smell of that place where I had woken up only yesterday.

“You need a name,” Father Christmas told me. “Unless perhaps you have one already?”

I did not need to think about it. “Cinnamon,” I said, as that was my very favourite thing.

“Welcome, Cinnamon,” Mother Christmas said.

Father Christmas climbed out of the sleigh and began unharnessing Rudolph, the lead reindeer, as elves emerged from the stables, each one attending to a reindeer.

I wondered if they had stayed in the stables to keep warm as long as possible. I would surely have done so.

Then Mother Christmas offered me her red-mittened hand so I stepped up.

Too tired to jump up on to her shoulder, I sat down on the soft red wool instead.

She walked briskly along the outside of the stables.

“Oh lovely,” I said when I saw the lights in the windows of the house ahead of us and the wide red door adorned with a festive wreath.

“Welcome home,” Mother Christmas told me.

As I looked up into her smiling face, I felt that this was only the beginning of my adventures.