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Rated: E · Other · Family · #1302118
The power of a childs belief can be astounding
Wishes Do Come True


Silently, creeping past Mommy’s door, I slink into our kitchenfamily room. Creak! My stocking feet slipped on the polished wood. I pause crossing my arms against my Winnie the Pooh pajama, holding tight to my sides against the dark morning. Our shabby uneven limbed Christmas tree that is only five feet tall is lit up in illuminating splendor. Red and green streamers flow from the top of the tree, our star. Colored lights dangle from the sagging branches. Torn scratched pictures adorning a clay ornament hang from branches. In front of our fireplace are the Christmas folk. Mommy collects them, wooden and clay life size figures of Beer belly Santa, rosy-cheeked Mrs. Claus, a two foot tall elf that Mommy tells me is my identical twin, and reindeer Prancer and Vixen. They decorate are Christmas corner. Mommy says this way Santa can keep a very close eye on me and make sure I have been good. She says he needs his wife to keep him company during the months its not Christmas.

I asked her why Christmas wasn’t every month, but Mommy said,

”Because.. then my Darling I would be broke, and warm apple cider with lemon and sugar would not taste as good.”

She says she bought the elf because he reminded her of me, and the reindeer because she thought they were cute. My favorite is Rudolph but we don’t have a Rudolph. One of mommy’s boyfriends threw him out the window when he had a fight with her. He cracked and splintered into pieces. He is all gone.

Rudolph is special, he has a bright red nose and he is always gets teased by the other reindeer, and everyone is mean to him because he is so small. Rudolph doesn’t have a lot of friends, like me but he is special to Santa because only Rudolph can lead the way.

Only I can make Mommy smile when her boyfriend Mikel goes out at night, and gets scary. He comes home late at night, and slams things around and shouts at Mommy and his voice comes out all slurred and in slow motion.

When we read the Rudolph story as we always do on Christmas I told Mommy, Rudolph would come and visit us on Christmas to wish us a Happy Christmas. When I made my special Christmas Eve wish I knew what I wanted most Rudolph will visit me.

I am big now, I am four. He will come bring presents and drink our cider with us, and maybe he will bring me a Daddy.

Rudolph wants to meet me, Sammy Thomas Marquisse. He will be my friend and play with me and maybe he can make Mommy happy. She used to be full of laughter and we used to have fun on winter days going through the house and picking our favorite stuffies and making a couch hide out and she told me stories.

I huddle next to the Christmas tree, taking in the light. The couch and coffee table is all covered by shadows. The room is blanketed by ebony nothingness. I reach out my hand to push away the looming blackness. A wet nose hits my hand. I look down and my hand has a red light shining through my fingers. A fuzzy head nudges me in the side. I take a step into the darkness bumping into a soft stomach. I take a look at this creature that is standing before me. A young fawn its fur still fuzzy stands on delicate, gawky legs. His aquamarine eyes drown me in a lonely look, it feels as if his little almond shaped eyes are peeking straight into my heart.

I sit down, and stroke his velvet fur.

”Rudolph, I knew you would come visit me. I need a friend; everyone at school makes fun of me because I don’t have a Daddy. They say I am too little. They say Mommy and Daddy eloped away, and it’s my fault that Daddy died in that fire. They say that daddy ran back into the fire to save his girl friend. They don’t know that he saved me and the house collapsed in on him. Daddy was a hero. Wasn’t he Rudolph?”

Rudolph kisses me on the face and lies down next to me. I suck my thumb as I lie down on his tummy.

“Rudolph, why is mommy never happy anymore? Is it my fault? “ I strangle a sob.

“Does she want me to go away?”

His little leg kicks me gently in the back, his head turns and looks at me. His eyes seem to look at me as if I am being silly.

In my head he says,

”Sammy, that is silly. Mommy loves you more than everyone else in the world.”

I lie down with my head resting on his shoulder. I can feel his heart thumping at the same pace as mine. I close my drowsy eyelids and dream about how happy mommy will be to see Rudolph.


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Christmas morning-8:30
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Emma Rose Cyrus widowed and having pulled through thirteen bad relationships, wakes up to a dismal Christmas. She opens one eye and looks over at the other side of the bed to find the other occupant. No crease at all on the musty linen sheets.

Unsurprised she drags herself out of bed and puts on her old lavender smelling rose-colored robe. The soft surface caresses weathered tan skin. Long strands of mahogany colored hair hang down contrasting to her creamy smooth face. A graceful ballerina’s hand covers an escaping yawn. She opens her door and walks down the hall to start the apple cider before she wakes up her sleeping son. Her breath stops when she sees the prone figures on the floor of her house. A close look determines her four year old son smiling an ear to ear grin sleeping with his dirty blonde hair on a Red nosed reindeer and Winnie the pooh pajama arms wrapped around a velvet neck.


“You were right Sammy, Rudolph did come. Thank you god,thank you Rudolph that wishes do come true. “

She kissed the unblinking awake reindeer on the tip of his nose. She went into her bedroom and withdrew her unwrapped presents. Deft fingers tied bows and creased edges of Christmas presents. She set the six neatly packaged gifts under their Christmas tree. She placed a single stick of hickory in the stocking Sammy hung for Rudolph. She lied on the couch watching her contented son and his Savior in perfect harmony.

The End
© Copyright 2007 Serafina (UN: freedomseeker at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Serafina has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this
© Copyright 2007 Serafina (freedomseeker at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1302118-Wishes-do-come-true