Kris (31 page)

As we neared his village, Olaf finally said to me, and to the dimming light around us, “I was looking for the Santa. I wanted to warn him about my father and the men.”

“And what did you want to tell the Santa?” I asked.

“I wanted to tell him the men were angry he brought toys into our house.” And then he thought for a moment. “I wanted Santa to show them, so that they would understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That he is good.”

“You are a good boy,” I said to Olaf.

“Will you see him?” Olaf asked. “Will you see the Santa?”

“I believe I will. The world is full of miracles.”

“Will you tell him that my sister and I love him?” Olaf asked. “We don't want to see him punished. He makes the greatest toys.”

And with a tear in my eye I said to the boy, “He loves you too, Olaf, and your sister Ona. As he loves all of the children he visits at Christmas time.”

“Do you know my sister Ona?” Olaf asked in a bewildered state.

“Yes. Yes I do, Olaf. I know your sister and your family. And they are a very good and loving family who will be happy to see you home.”

As we approached Olaf's house, he was sleeping once more. Wolfie lagged beside us, tongue hanging from his mouth.

I had taken the path that bypassed the main village road, as I did not want to bring too much notice to our arrival. I was not sure what I would say to them, except to let them know Olaf was safe, and that he had a good heart. And no matter how he might have frightened them with his departure in search of me, they should forgive him and comfort him.

As Sebastian walked to a stop, Wolfie stood up, his forelegs on the side of Sebastian, and licked Olaf's nose and his cheek. Olaf twitched awake and started to giggle as Wolfie's tongue tickled him and brushed across his face.

They were quite a pair of adventurers, these two.

I swept the bundled boy up into my arms and carried him to the cabin. Wolfie jumped in the snow, running to the house barking.

When I reached the cabin door, I knocked with the back of one hand while I continued to hold Olaf.

The sky was darkening now, and I could see the reflections of candlelight bouncing off the windowsill as someone moved through the cabin in answer to my knock, and I heard the sound of feet rushing to the door.

Olaf's mother, Johanna, threw open the door and looked at me with her jaw agape and her eyes puffy from tears.

Olaf was awake now, and despite the fact he was snugly wrapped in my coat he began to shiver.

Olaf's mother reached out for him, crying as she held Olaf in her arms. “Thank God and this good man you are safe,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “Oh, Olaf, we were so worried we had lost you.”

And then she looked at me and invited me inside the cabin to sit near the fire and warm myself.

“Thank you! Thank you so!” she said to me. “Please come inside. Please.”

“Thank you for the offer of your kind hospitality,” I said. “But I need to leave. There are others waiting for my return, just as you have waited for Olaf to come home.”

“Please stay. If only for a few moments. You look terrible.”

I looked at her, sincere in her concern for me as she embraced Olaf, and nodded.

“Let me fetch you a blanket and get him out of these clothes,” she said. “The men will be back, and my husband will want to thank you.”

Olaf's mother carried him off to a nearby room to get him warm clothes, and I decided it might be better and easier for all if I departed.

I walked quietly to the door and reached for the handle, but just as I did, Ona scampered into the room and began to hug my legs.

“I'm sorry, Santa! I'll never stay up late again. I promise.”

“Slow down little one, all is well.” I patted her on the head while she continued to squeeze my legs.

“No. It's my fault Papa's mad at you. He told me to go to sleep, and I didn't listen. I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. I'll go to bed early next year. I promise.”

“None of this is your fault, Ona. Your father loves you and wanted to protect you and Olaf, that is all.”

“Will you come and eat your cookies?” Ona asked so sweetly.

“You are a very kind girl, Ona, but now that everyone is safe I must go.”

“Are we strangers now?”

“No little one, we will never be strangers. I remember the day you were born and when you lost your first tooth.”

“This one?” Ona asked, pulling her mouth open to show me where the tooth had come out.

“Yes, that one,” I laughed.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Oh. I'm not laughing at you, Ona.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Why does anyone laugh? I don't know. Happiness. Hope.”

“Hope?” she asked, confused, squinching up her nose.

I thought for a moment and then tried to answer her innocent question. “There will be times in your life when you may disappoint yourself, Ona, or when you feel all is lost.”

She looked at me with her eyes still questioning.

“I laugh because it brings me joy to see the goodness in the world, the goodness in you, even as life reminds me how stupid I can be.”

“You shouldn't say stupid. Mommy says that is a bad word.”

Again I could not help but chuckle at the simple truth of a child. “She is right, of course. I am sorry.”

“It hurts my brother's feelings,” Ona explained.

This caused me to laugh even harder as it revealed a deeper truth to her experience. If we could only teach children not to be cruel to each other, we might learn as adults how to create true peace on earth.

“Always be sensitive to the feelings of others. And never forget how to laugh, even during the hardest times of life. Even when you are old, like me.”

“My brother is mean to me and calls me a child.”

“It is good to be a child, Ona. You should be happy to be a child in a loving home such as this. To a child, all things are possible.”

Ona hugged my leg again, and Wolfie began to run around the room barking.

“Were you ever a child?” Ona asked me sweetly.

“Oh, yes, my little one. And in many ways, I still am.”

I lifted her into the air and kissed her on the forehead.

“Now really, I must go.” Then I set her down near Wolfie and he began to lick her feet and wag his tail wildly.

I turned to reach for the door handle, but Johanna rushed into the room and gripped me by the arm. As she handed me my red coat, she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

“Thank you, Santa,” she said warmly. “In bringing my son back to us safely, you have given our family the greatest Christmas gift we could ask for.”

“I know the pain of losing a child. And the pain of losing a brother,” I said to her and Ona. “And I have learned that even in the midst of that terrible pain, miracles can occur. Never stop believing.”

And then I wished them a Merry Christmas and went out into the night.

Sebastian carried me homeward in his ever-faithful way, though I was a heavy load upon his back, coughing and struggling to breathe in the cold winter air.

Our journey seemed so much more long and difficult as my illness advanced. Sebastian realized I was not fully in command of my senses as I grew delirious and weak. I could feel him trying to get his haunches under my weight, trying to keep me balanced on his back. Try as I might, I could not keep my head from lolling in exhaustion. Each time it dropped and I jerked awake, I felt sicker and more nauseated.

Eventually, despite Sebastian's efforts, I fell backwards off my loyal horse, who stayed standing vigil beside me. The powder from the soft snowfall that gently filled the air softened my impact, and I stared up into the blurry night sky, remembering the end of my first delivery a lifetime ago.

“Don't worry, Nikko. It won't be long now. Merry Christmas.”

At Jacob's home that evening, Ona sat near the hearth playing with Olaf's Christmas present, while Olaf was off resting in his bed.

“Ona, it's important that you not mention anything to your father,” her mother said to her in a serious voice. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Ona said.

Her mother took Olaf's toy away from her. “Listen to me. This is very important. Your father just … You just can't say a word. Do you understand?”

“Santa doesn't want anyone else to know who he is,” Ona replied.

“Yes. Yes, sweetheart. Santa likes to be a secret. Can you keep his secret?” Her mother looked Ona in the eye and whispered, “Shhh.”

“Shhh,” Ona whispered back at her. And they both laughed at their shared secret.

“What secret?” Olaf said from the bedroom door. “Where did the man go who brought me back?”

“Olaf doesn't know the secret,” Ona laughed.

“Shhh,” her mother said.

“Shhh,” Ona repeated again, giggling.

“What secret? Tell me the secret!” Olaf insisted.

“The man who brought you back is named Santa,” Ona blurted out.

“He's not Santa,” Olaf scoffed.

“Yes he is, Isn't he, Mama?”

“What! Is he still here?” Olaf yelled.

“No. Olaf, he has gone. Your sister and you must promise …”

Olaf ignored his mother and ran to the door yelling, “Santa! Santa! Wait! Come back!”

As Olaf burst onto the porch, he collided with a strong pair of legs. “Santa?” he began to ask. But when he looked up, he saw the weary face of his father staring down at him.

“Why all this shouting about Santa?” Jacob said harshly as he hauled Olaf into the cabin by the scruff of his neck.

Thatcher, Darren, and Rolf followed him onto the porch and inside.

“Where have you been, boy? Is this some kind of joke?” Jacob said sternly, grabbing the boy by both arms. “We were searching the countryside for you, son. Where have you been? When did you come home?” Jacob looked at Olaf with fire in his eyes, and Olaf was too frightened to speak.

“He's home safe,” Thatcher said, trying to sooth the anger Jacob expressed. “That's all that matters now.”

“What is going on here? Someone answer me,” Jacob continued.

“Olaf got excited and went out,” Johanna said in a protective voice. “But now he's back. He's safe. Everything is fine now. Thank you, gentlemen, for your kind help. I'm sorry for your trouble.”

“We thought we had lost you, son,” Jacob said in a deeply serious manner. Then he wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him as he buried his head in the boy's soft and messy hair. He shook his head, still holding the boy, then without looking up asked Johanna to get the men refreshments. “Is there something warm for the men to drink, Johanna? It's bitter cold out there.”

“None for me,” Darren said. “We need to be heading home.”

“Someone needs to go inform the others that your boy is safe,” Rolf said.

“I'll take care of that,” Thatcher replied.

“Yes. Thank you,” responded Jacob.