The Magic of Christmas
Lucy came down the stairs, her heart hammering with anticipation. She’d asked for a doll’s house from Santa. Would he have answered her request? Had she been good? Cracking open the door to the lounge room, a shape loomed in front of the tree. A boxy shape! Too big to go under the tree. She let out a tiny squeal.
Sinking to her knees, she took in the glorious gift. Four windows, surrounded by a brick façade, a tiled roof, even a green velvet base that looked like freshly mown grass. Two white button knobs, centred, invited her to look inside. She pulled back the divided front wall, revealing a two up, two down home, filled with furniture and miniature people. Beds, sofas, a kitchen, even a standard lamp and piano. And lightshades. Not bothering, initially, to check the garage, when she finally peered around the back, she discovered a huge, blue battery. With the press of a button, the little house flooded with light. In the pre-dawn gloom, it glowed in harmony with her warm, happy heart.
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, she noticed a break in the roof line and a row of hinges. What else could there be? With the door panels open wide, the tiled slope protruded over the front edge. Gingerly, she tucked her fingers under the lip and lifted, unveiling an attic nursery complete with cot, comforter and pillow. The fabric, seersucker, was white and decorated with toy soldiers, cars and teddy bears. She set to work, putting the family to bed, tucking in the sheets, giving special attention to the baby in its cute cot. It was perfect. Santa was marvellous. It was the best Christmas Day, ever.
Weeks later, Lucy was in the attic of her own house, a place of wonder and her mother’s hoarding. She never quite knew what she might find: discarded clothes, shoes, books. Last summer there had been boxes and boxes of jars filled with jam. Several trunks of clothing fabric, however, were always present, offering that half yard of lining; the ideal trim for a cuff or collar; the exact colour match for a ‘repair and make do’ project. Lucy loved rummaging through the pile, determined to find the required piece that would make her mother smile.
‘Oh, look,’ said Lucy, on one of those delving and hunting days. ‘It’s the material from my doll’s house.’
Lucy’s mum stilled. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Yes, it is. Look, the soldiers and teddies are just the same.’
‘Well, put it back. That’s not what we’re looking for.’
‘But isn’t it amazing?’ said Lucy. ‘Santa must have exactly the same material in his workshop. The elves sat at their sewing machines, with this fabric, and made bedding for my house.’ She looked up, her face delighted, guileless. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘Oh, I can’t remember.’
‘Was it Selfridges?’
‘I’m really not sure.’
‘That’s it! He gets it from Selfridges, too. It must be one of the jobs he does the rest of the year. Isn’t that incredible Mum?’
Lucy’s mother swallowed and smiled. Ah, the magic of Christmas!