“Christmas is doing a little something extra for someone.” - Charles M. Schulz

Kris was not dressed for the desert. The deer refused to fly in the sandstorm so he landed on the edge. He reached into his endless bag for the presents along with some sturdier attire for this terrain: boots, jacket, goggles, and a nice red turban to keep the sand out of his hair. He left Blitzen in charge of the others while he continued his journey to the observatory. Slightly annoyed that even in this day and age some people didn’t have a chimney.

“Come they told me, pa rum pum pum pum,” He sang as he walked.

The winter air was cold, as usual, but Kris was used to that. He wasn’t used to the pelting bits of sand that came at him from all sides with sharp hisses, so a cold coming was the least of his worries. Winter is the worst time of the year, when the Snow Queen rages and Mother Nature removes her Fall gown for that dreadfully tight dress with ice tipped heels. But this was an important journey, the first of many to come, and such a long journey.

“A new born King to see, pa rum pum pum pum”

The ways were deep and the weather sharp, and sore-footed he went on. There were almost times when he regretted becoming an idea. The countless gifts to make and deliver: Cabbage Patch Dolls, Dart Vader action figures, and T.S. Eliot poetry collections.

“Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pum pum pum”

He passes a city of camel traders, liquor stores, and brothels. Mentally jotting down a name or two for his list. One merchant comes up to him, taking him for a tourist in his red turban.

“Hello sir, can I interest you in a gift for the missus?”

“Haven’t got a missus yet, Khalid,” He told the man he’d never met before. “But stop selling those flea infested rugs or come the twenty-fifth you’ll get nothing, but a lump of coal.”

Khalid cursed at Kris in his native tongue as he walked away and Kris added his name to the others.

“To lay before the King, pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum,”

Kris made camp in the desert that night. The fires kept flickering out, and the lack of shelters made him wish he brought the sack with him, but he was still knew to this and didn’t want to rely on such magical gifts all the time, and the nearby cities felt untrustworthy and the towns unfriendly. Plus, the villages were charging high prices for the inns.

In the end Kris decided to travel all night, the rest of the way to the observatory. Sleeping in snatches here or there when the sand died down and his feet grew tired. Voices of old Friar Fear singing in his ears, saying that this was all folly.

“So to honor Him, pa rum pum pum pum,”

At dawn, Kris came down to find a hidden valley, somehow wet in this dry desert, smelling of edible vegetation with a clear running stream, and three trees shaped like crosses on the low sky. A respite from his long journay to catch his breath and wash his feat, but he kept the presents near him at all times. He was never one to assume how Mother Nature worked.

“When we come.”

The next day Kris came upon a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel. People spoke of their holiday plans and family frustrations. One man looked at Kris and whispered to him companion. “Doesn’t he look like a foreign Santa Claus?”

“Who’s to say that’s not how Santa Claus always looks?” His companion said and Kris was inclined to agree given his current state.

“Little Baby, pa rum pum pum pum”

How long had he been on this journey to the observatory? The tavern was abuzz with talk of many kinds of news including the laster toys for their children: an OFFICIAL DAISY RED RYDER RANGE MODEL 1938 AIR RIFLE BB GUN and the like, but there was no information on the observatory, and so Kris continued his journey.

“I am a poor boy too, pa rum pum pum pum”

He arrived at evening, not a moment too soon. He had checked the Inn nearby at first to no avail. Kris found the place satisfactory, an observatory with many lenses and such to study the stars. He met the three men called wise: Melchior, Caspar, and Balthazar. They were very excited to receive the three-part gift, but planned on regifting, which was a bother at first till they told him who they were regifting too. He didn’t know what a baby would do with a piece of metal, an aromatic resin, and a natural gum.

“I have no gift to bring, pa rum pum pum pum”

All this was a long time ago, Kris remembered, and he would do it again, but set down… set down was how he led all that way for Son Soul or Daughter Death? There was a Soul, certainly, he had evidence and no doubt. Kris had seen Soul and Death, but had thought they were different; this soul was hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, his now nonexistent or very unlikely death. He returned to hos sled, to go back to the cold with snow instead of sand, but there was an ease, he didn’t quite understand. A task, now completed that he will need to complete again and again for the rest of his existence.

“That's fit to give the King, pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum…”

THANKS FOR READING...NEXT UP DOC HOLLIDAY CHRISTMAS.