(Note: This is to be my last blog post for the year 2018.)
Many years ago, Santa Claus was having a bad Christmas. I mean, he was having a really bad Christmas.
It had started out early in the season with Mrs. Claus complaining her head off that if Santa didn't start meeting her personal Christmas needs more, she would look into filing for a divorce. After that, barely after all the toys got made—several of which were defective—the elves happened to Unionize, and they went on strike en masse. Then, just as the flight on Christmas Eve got going, Rudolph happened to suffer a massive allergy attack, and his nose would hardly glow. Santa and the reindeer lost their way around the world several times as a result. In any case, Santa found out the hard way that he'd gained so much weight that year that he couldn't fit down many of the chimneys, and on top of that, a couple of times en route around the globe, NATO defense systems mistook Santa and his sleigh on their radar for hostile world powers' ICBMs, and he had to dodge anti-missile lasers. Actually, one of the laser beams scored a direct hit, and so when Santa crash-landed in Mongolia, even though he and the reindeer survived through their magic, you could tell how he felt by now.
At about this time, an enchanted Christmas angel swooped down from Heaven, and in her arms she held a Christmas tree. She said to Santa in her glowing voice, "Lo, Kris Kringle, I bring you a gift: a simple tree for the Yuletide. You need only tell me what I do with it."
And THAT, boys and girls, is why to this day, there's a Christmas angel stuck at the top of every tree.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.
No comments:
Post a Comment