We were almost done dressing the Christmas tree. It wasn’t the best looking tree since most of the ornaments had not survived when the tree fell last year when they kids were roughhousing too close to it. But we did the best we can to make it a nice Christmas tree for the next day.
Just as I was putting the ornament box behind the Christmas tree, we all heard a knock on the door. I lifted my head in curiosity, “who could that be at this hour?”
But my wife, always being in holiday spirits around this time, grew a big smile on her bright face and said with a cheerful tune, “I’ll get it, dear.” When she went to the door and opened the door to the old peephole, she looked even more curious than I felt at that point. She looked a bit hesitant when she put her hand on the doorknob and pulled back about to open the door. She turned to look at me as though for encouragement before she turned the knob. She only opened the door wide enough for sound to enter and we all waited attentively.
“Shelter, please, just for the night.” Was all that we heard and it made me even more curious. Who could this stranger be? It was a withered voice probably shivering from the cold.
She looked back at me but I gave her a look that was less than assuring. “But it is Christmas Eve, darling.” In such a sweet voice, how could I say no?
I stood straight and brushed down my pants. “Just for the night.” I sternly breathed. The moment the door opened in full swing I almost regretted my words.
There stood a mess of a man under our doorframe. He was a man very up in his age and had a mangled, gray beard and wore a tattered brown suit. He wore glasses but they were cracked and were crooked on his arched, red nose. And when he smiled, oh, what a horrid smile. His teeth were yellow and some were missing. Yet his voice sounded so sweet, but still withered, “Bless you, bless you. I will not be here but for the night.”
I tried my best not to look upset or reluctant since I didn’t want him to be able to figure me out and feel bad about it. Though it looked rather twisted, he had such a jolly look about him. “Alright, well, we were just about to get to bed now. There is a guestroom that you can stay at for the night and I think that I can spare you a nightgown.” I pick up the girls and motion to the boy—he is too old to be spoiled by being picked up. “Come on, children, time for bed.” There is little protest since I believe they were getting tired. I don’t think my wife was happy that I was going so abruptly because when I looked back, she was scowling.
I did what I needed before I got into bed: I tucked the children in, who were already dressed in their night outfits, dress in my own nightgown and found one for our unexpected guest to wear and place it on the guestroom bed.
I would have been asleep by the time my wife came up if it weren’t for our guest. We had never had a guest who we didn’t personally know allowed into our home up until now and it wasn’t doing well for me.
When she was ready in her nightgown, my wife slipped under the blankets next to me and fell asleep.

~ ~ ~

My wife tapped me on the shoulder hinting that the kids were asleep and I got out of bed. Every Christmas my wife and I wait for the lights to go out and the children to fall asleep so we can slip the Christmas presents under the tree. Most all parents do that, I know, but it is none the less fun for us.
We both headed up to the attic where the presents were hid. I grabbed as many of the larger ones as I can, barely able to see over them and try to make it downstairs. I really don’t know what I was doing, trying to carry so many in one trip and hoped not to stumble down the stairs a bit. I blamed my slippers at the time but it was obvious it was a combination of things.
But nonetheless, the presents all made it down under the Christmas tree and we made it back into our bed for a nice night’s sleep.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

~ ~ ~

The curtains are drawn and the bright morning sun shown through the window. My darling must have pulled the curtains back I first thought until I saw her sleeping soundly next to me. I sat up pondering to myself but I stopped when I heard a clatter in the kitchen. I tapped my wife on the shoulder, “honey, it is Christmas.” I looked down at her and her eyes opened.
“Are the children awake?” She groaned and stretched.
“I don’t think they are. I suppose we should wake them up.” I flipped the covers off me and put my feet on the floor into my slippers and waited for my wife to do the same. We both got our robes and went to the children’s room. It took a moment but we got them up. I myself then look into the guestroom to find that it is empty.
We all headed downstairs to find something strange. The Christmas tree was finely dressed in sparkling ornaments, far more extravagant than the ones we had put up from the night before and even the tree itself looked as though it sparkled like the night sky. And under it, oh, under the tree there were twice, if not thrice the amount of presents under the tree than we had left. The children looked as though they were about to jump out of their slippers with joy of what Christmas morning had brought.
Suddenly out emerged from the kitchen a man who stood cleaning his golden-framed glasses and smiled at us. He wore a clean hunter’s green suit and had a red nose and big white beard and a nice shiny smile. “Good morning and merry Christmas!”
Was this the same man we let into our house the night before? He had to be, he sounded like the man we let in the last night but his voice no longer sounded withered but brighter and jollier. And how trimmed and pressed he looked!
“I made brunch for everyone, but get dressed, though it is Christmas and most of you want to stay in, it doesn’t mean you can’t look your best!” His smile grew wider.
Without a word, the children sped up the stairs and into their rooms with us following after them. My wife and I shared suspicious glances but we knew the children were eager and excited.
It didn’t take us long to come back down to hear the man setting up the table in the dining room. “Come, come, sit.” When we did so, he was quick to serve us.
It looked as though he had been cooking since the night before; there was turkey, ham, stuffing, vegetables, bread and cranberry sauce. And the strange thing was, I don’t think we had that in our refrigerator. Nonetheless, we savored the meal and it was good.
When we were done eating, we migrated to the living room where the children were eager to open the presents. However, the man sat on the chair near the tree and cleared his voice.
“Come round, children, I have a little story to tell before you get to your gifts.” Surprisingly, our little one comes up to the man and climbs on his lap. “Now, now, I wish to tell you of a place far, far away in a land where it always snows. Deep into the land there is a town full of happy little people who always smile and are always full of such joy and cheer all year round. And they eat nothing but cookies and candy—“ he laughs as though recalling a humorous memory—“Well, all year, they make nothing but toys, but you see these are not just normal toys but magical toys. Drums that play themselves, little soldier men who march without you having to wind them up, stuffed animals that say I love you when you hug them. This is all because this is not an ordinary place, but a magical place.”
“Where is this place, mister?” Our oldest asks.
“Why, it is the North Pole, of course!” The man chuckled. This caught my wife and I by surprise as we looked at each other then back at the man. “But now, open your gifts, see what you have gotten.”
They all rushed to the tree and started sorting out the presents by name. I was surprised to see that some were made out to my wife and I. The children quickly opened their presents and squealed and shouted out of joy and rapture for the presents they had unwrapped.
“Look, dad, it’s magic!” Our eldest son shouted as he held high a bright and sparkling toy car whose headlights flashed as he held it.
My eyes were wide in amazement; I didn’t know what to say. That was when our little one nudged me with a little package wrapped in shimmering gift-wrap.
“Daddy, this one is for you. “ She smiled.
I took it from her hands and looked at it, head cocked, “Well, thank you.”
“Oh, it isn’t from me.” Then she trotted away to tend to her toys.
I slowly unwrapped it to see a small black box, which I opened to find a new gold watch. Were my eyes deceiving me? I had lost my other watch in the train station and wasn’t able to replace it since. How would he have known? Because it couldn’t have been anyone but him. I dropped the box and held the watch in my hands. How? I looked up at the man and he was smiling once again as he began to stand up.
“I thank you all very much for your hospitality, but now I must take my leave. Thank you very much for your kindness.” Without another word he headed for the door. When he had opened it, there were carolers outside out house singing song of Christmas.