What is This Christmas?

What is This Christmas?

By Rebecka Vigus

Yes, Ebook

                Winter in the fairy glen was not magical. The fragile fairies were forced to remain inside. Twit watched the snowflakes gently falling. She saw the brightly colored lights of the farmhouse across the meadow. She longed to see what the family was doing. Her wings twitched with the urge to fly. Maybe she would slip out tonight. What could it hurt? What a great adventure. Just then her mother called, “Lights out.”

                Twit curled into her bed. Moonlight streamed through the window as she lay down to sleep. She waited until all was quiet before easing out the window into the night.

                The bitter cold wind made it hard for her to fly. Moonlight through the clouds helped her keep her bearings. Those beautiful snowflakes were cold and wet as they hit her gossamer wings. She hoped she would make it to the farmhouse.

                It seemed to take forever and just as she was giving up Twit splattered against a window pane. She rubbed a spot with her cold hand to see inside. A little girl was lying on her bed reading. The room was all pink and cozy.  Twit tapped on the window hoping the girl would let her in.  She was about to give up a when little boy ran into the room.

                He shouted muffled words Twit could not make out. Then he noticed her. “Look, Bridget,” he yelled. “There’s a weird bug on your window.”

                Both children came to the window. Twit was excited, hoping they would let her in so she could get warm.

                “It’s a fairy,” Bridget said.

                “There’s no such thing,” the boy stated. But he continued to stare at the strange bug. It looked like it was waving to them.

                “Stand back,” Bridget ordered. “I’m going to open the window and let it in.” She lifted the window enough to reach out and grab the little fairy. “Oh, she’s cold.”

                Twit was startled by having her own wish come true and could only sit it Bridget’s hand and shiver.

                “Find me a doll blanket will you, Bryce?”  Bridget asked.

                He muttered but started searching through her doll stuff.  “Will this work?” he asked holding up a doll wash cloth.

                “Just bring it,” Bridget ordered. “She’s freezing.” Bridget wrapped the tiny fairy to help her get warm. “Do you understand what I say?” she asked.

                Twit nodded yes.

                “I’m Bridget and this is Bryce,” she told the fairy. “Did you come for Christmas?”

                Twit looked confused she answered, “I’m Twit. What is this Christmas?”

                “You don’t know what Christmas is,” Bryce shrieked.

                “Hush, or Mom will hear us,” admonished Bridget. “Christmas is a holiday we celebrate every year. We decorate the house, hang our stockings, and wait for Santa to arrive.”

                “What’s a Santa?” Twit asked.

                “This is messed up,” Bryce said. “Everybody knows who Santa is. He lives at the North Pole. Every year he brings toys to girls and boys around the world. He rides in a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer.”

                It was Twit’s turn to be astonished. She had seen Santa and his sleigh. She never knew what he did. She sneezed.

                “Oh, we can’t let you get sick,” Bridget said.  “I’ll fix you a bed and tuck you in. Tomorrow we can talk more.”

                Twit perched on a pillow wrapped in the wash cloth as Bridget went to work making her a bed. Once made Bridget shooed Bryce from the room and tucked Twit into bed. She crawled into bed and shut off the light. “Night, Twit.”

                “Night.”

                Sometime in the night Twit spiked a fever and got chills. She knew this was not good and she would never make it home by morning. Her mother would worry. She tossed and turned in the little bed.

                Bridget found Twit soaking wet and shivering in the morning. “Oh, you poor thing. Let me find something to make you better.” She left the room and Twit curled into the bed trying to get warm.

                In a few minutes, Bridget returned. She had something in a tiny doll cup. “Drink this, it will help.”

                Twit drank while Bridget searched for dry bedding. She tucked the little fairy in. “I hope you get well soon. I made a Christmas wish to keep you.”

                Twit cried, “I made a wish to go home.”

                Sleep now and we can work it out when you feel better. Again Bridget tucked Twit in and left the room. When Twit woke up she felt better. She tried out her wings and flew to the window. Snow covered everything she could hardly see her home in the woods. She cried, wishing once again she was safe at home.

                When Bridget came back she had Bryce in tow. “We talked it over and decided we are going to help you get home.”

                Twit smiled. “Thank you.”

                “You need to drink some more of this because we have to take you outside,” Bridget told her.

                Twit took the cup and drank. She was surprised it did not make her sleepy. She handed the cup to Bridget.

                “Bryce and I are going to get ready to go out,” she said. “We’ll be back to get you in a few minutes.”

                The two left the little fairy. She worried they might change their minds keeping her here forever. Tears stung her eye lids. They had been so kind. It took ages, but the two returned dressed in their snowsuits.

                “Hop into my pocket,” Bridget said opening the pocket on her jacket. “Can you show us the way?”

                “Oh, yes,” Twit said climbing in.

                In less than ten minutes they were across the field. At the outskirts of the woods, Twit said, “I can get there from here. Thank you.” She fluttered her wings and flew home.

                She sent her wish to Santa and on Christmas morning Bridget found a fairy sized doll in her stocking and Bryce found the sling shot he wanted.