Ho! Ho! Help Me!!
Ho! Ho! Help me!!
The gruff voice came from the chimney - which was really weird because we had a gas fireplace with no open chimney. The other piece of weirdness was the Irish accent that went along with the ‘no chimney.’ But not wanting to be accused of hearing voices, I walked nonchalantly over to the fireplace. The fireplace that threw it’s gas fire warmth into a fan and then into the small living room cluttered with Christmas decorations and gifts. The gruffness of the voice from the chimney seemed muffled as I approached. ‘Ho Ho Ho! Help me!’ Was the owner of that voice suffocating? And how could I help if I didn’t know how to even find it’s owner?! Then startled, I just about jumped out of my slippers! The Irish accent bellowed at me - ‘Would ya‘ quit standin‘ there lookin‘ confused and help me!‘ The owner of the voice certainly hadn’t suffocated. Our stockings, all eleven of them, had been hung the night before, lined up from the largest to smallest. On each one was a reindeer or a puppie or a kitten. Except for the one at the far end of the mantel. The smallest stocking. I was standing right beside it when that voice had boomed at me.
Then the little green stocking swayed. I looked at it. I took off my glasses and looked again. A very angry looking leprechaun was tangled in the white edging at the top of the little stocking. He looked at me and repeated - ‘Would ya’ please help me get untangled. I’m not supposed to be here until March, but I got caught up in some Magical Spirit of Christmas Powder and landed on this silly stocking.’
I quickly helped him out of the tangle that trapped in. For the rest of the Christmas season, the golden string on the leprechaun’s cap was looped over the golden hook at the mantel. The not so gruff leprechaun became a friend to the family and a regular Christmas decoration. Every year, he returned in March for St. Patrick’s Day.
The gruff voice came from the chimney - which was really weird because we had a gas fireplace with no open chimney. The other piece of weirdness was the Irish accent that went along with the ‘no chimney.’ But not wanting to be accused of hearing voices, I walked nonchalantly over to the fireplace. The fireplace that threw it’s gas fire warmth into a fan and then into the small living room cluttered with Christmas decorations and gifts. The gruffness of the voice from the chimney seemed muffled as I approached. ‘Ho Ho Ho! Help me!’ Was the owner of that voice suffocating? And how could I help if I didn’t know how to even find it’s owner?! Then startled, I just about jumped out of my slippers! The Irish accent bellowed at me - ‘Would ya‘ quit standin‘ there lookin‘ confused and help me!‘ The owner of the voice certainly hadn’t suffocated. Our stockings, all eleven of them, had been hung the night before, lined up from the largest to smallest. On each one was a reindeer or a puppie or a kitten. Except for the one at the far end of the mantel. The smallest stocking. I was standing right beside it when that voice had boomed at me.
“Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.”
~ Charles M. Schulz
No comments:
Post a Comment