The Fairy on the Christmas Tree

The Fairy on the Christmas Tree

Everything was going wrong.

He had run out of wrapping paper — again — and was now using bits of old newspaper from last night’s fish and chips. But there wasn’t any sellotape left either, so he scrunched it all up, and buried it carefully in his sack, and limped out towards the sleigh, moored outside.

Snow had fallen, snow on snow.

Stepping onto the running board with a sigh, he heard a loud crack, as his foot went through the damp, frozen wood, causing him to lose his balance and drop the sack, which spilled its contents onto the snow. With wrapping paper, recycled newspaper and a hint of vinegar in the blue air, Father Christmas wondered whether it could possibly get any worse.

It could.

Nearby, the reindeer were causing problems. One was drunk, with a red nose to prove it. Another had got herself pregnant, and the other two have simply disappeared, gone off to play somewhere no doubt.

Now confident it can’t get any worse, Father Christmas concludes he needs a drink –- one for the road as it were. Back inside, and on opening the drinks cabinet, he finds the decanter empty.

Hearing giggling, he notices that the elves have been tippling, nay, indeed thoroughly boozing, on his whisky, and are very definitely away with the fairies. ‘This is dreadful’ he mutters, ‘it can’t get worse than this!’

But oh yes, it can…

Mrs Christmas emerges from the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up from having got intimate with a turkey. I forgot to tell you dear, my mother is coming for Christmas dinner. Looking heavenward, Santa barely hears her add, ‘and she’s staying for a fortnight’.

Santa loses it, and slumps to the ground, sober and desperate.

But, just then, the doorbell rings –- Jingle Bells, on the 32 option chiming doorbell they got last year. ‘What now’, he wonders, hauling his great bulk towards the front door.

And there standing in the icy wind with the snow, deep and crisp and even, is — not a pizza delivery boy –- but a fairy.

Yes, a fairy.

A fairy, holding a Christmas Tree about eight times her own size.

‘Hello’ she says, ‘Happy Christmas! Isn’t it a lovely night –- a white Christmas at last –- just what we’ve been dreaming about for years! Isn’t it just great to be alive on this holy night!’

And that is how the fairy came to be shoved on top of the Christmas Tree.