I don't want to do that.
But I do want to have something of this done and ready in time for Christmas, for people to share with friends and family members, who might also appreciate this type of story. (After all a little shameless promotion never hurt anyone.)
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The Santa Society
Prologue: The Family's secret story.
It was Grandma's favorite day of the year.
The whole family gathered together in one place, in the pavilion built specially for this purpose, without a thought about work, or business, or anything else that normally took up nearly all of everyone's time during this time of year. Instead they sang songs, ate huge meals, argued occasionally (in a good natured way,) spent time together, exchanged stories, and hugs, and memories.
It made her feel good to see them all together. There were hundreds of people here today, they were quite a prolific family. Her and her brothers and sisters children, and their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even a couple of great-great-grandchildren. The thought brought a smile to her face and a tear to her eye, and she looked around at the enormity of what her family had become.
Her only regrets were the few family members who had left the fold to pursue their own lives.
Though perhaps the word regret was the wrong word. She was happy for them, but sad that they weren't here at this time. But you couldn't stop people from having their own lives, all you could do was hope for their happiness.
She sighed contentedly nonetheless, and with one hand took hold of her red and white striped cane and pulled herself up to her feet, helped by a few nearby hands. She walked to a case laid into the wall, which was lined with red and green striped velvet and pulled out her overly large ornate key.
The adults who noticed her didn't mention it, but nodded knowingly at each other, grinning broadly but otherwise taking little notice.
The children who noticed however stared in open mouthed amazement. They were always amazed that they always seemed to forget that this was coming every year. Many of them looked at one another before starting the stampede as Grandma put the key into the lock, and turned it with a tinkling of bells that played out a familiar tune. Almost everyone was too late to say the whole thing, but everyone chimed in for the last few words.
"...COM-ING... TO TOWN."
Grandma gave no sign that she had noticed any such thing, as was her way, but while her back was turned she grinned, wrinkling the skin around her eyes in an old familiar fashion.
She pulled from the case a book bound in leather stained an auburn brown from many many decades of handling and use. The front cover bore an intricately designed picture sewn together from, and carved into many different pieces of, differently colored leather. It depicted a large round face with long white hair, and a fluffy white beard, whose eyes, thanks to the artists amazingly realistic rendition, seemed to follow you around the room. The jolly look on his face, from his beautific smile, to his rosy red cheeks and nose (stained onto the tan colored leather of his face) gave anyone who saw him a sense of comfort.
The man wore a red hat that rose above his head, looking for all the world like an ornately designed cathedral, and a red top with white fur around the collar. He was holding a gold colored staff in his left hand.
She closed the case and led a whispering crowd of children over the the roaring fireplace set into one side of the pavilion, and sat down slowly and deliberately in a high backed easy chair, which was also here for this purpose alone and felt like an old friend welcoming her back after a year apart.
She ran her hand over the arm of the chair feeling the plush fabric, smiled, and pretended not to notice as dozens of wide eyed children began to sink onto the carpet all around her, never taking their eyes off her, or "The Book." Older children, and teenagers also started to gather behind the younger children, some gathering chairs so they wouldn't have to sit on the floor, and so they could see over the younger children's heads.
Those with cell phones, much to the delighted bewilderment of their parents, Turned Them Off, an event that could surely only be heralded by the coming of angels! Many parents gasped in mock amazement, as their teenage children turned and rolled their eyes at them. But this was Grandma, and this day, and this event happened only once a year. It was special, and they recognized and respected that.
Grandma in the meantime had laid the book in her lap and pulled her bifocals, hanging from a long and haphazardly decorated chain, with charms and trinkets from many many gifts over the years, up to her eyes, tilting her head back slightly to see through the reading part of the glasses, and pulled the beautifully embellished book open, saying, "Alright children..." As she spoke these words, even in her soft and quavering voice, a soft, polite shushing noise swept quickly through the room, which was quiet within seconds.
She continued, as if she hadn't noticed anything, "...Gather around."
Everyone laughed, and Grandma looked over the tops of her narrow glasses, smiling knowingly at everyone. It was the same joke every year, and even though everyone knew it was coming, it was a comfortable and familiar joke, which just made it all the funnier.
As the room went quiet again she said, "Well then, it seems it's time once again for the annual reading of the Story of Niclause and Klause, the founders of our family, and the originators of our traditions." She looked at the children sitting closest and asked, "Would anyone like to help me turn the pages?"
Gasping a little, a little four year old blond girl with pigtails covered her mouth, then raised her hand, along with a few others. "Me, me Gramma!" she said waving her little fist over her head.
Grandma nodded at her and held her hand out to her. All the adults understood that Grandma always chose the youngest child who had the nerve to ask.
"Okay Jenna, come on up." Everyone always marveled at Grandma's memory. She could remember each and every child's name, even when her own children had started to struggle to recall their own grandchildren's names.
She smiled as Jenna climbed up into her lap, and rested her head against Grandma's shoulder. When she was settled comfortably, Grandma gave the girl a slight squeeze, then turned her attention to The Book.
She began to read, but unlike when most people read from a book sounding very flat and monotone, Grandma spoke with a storytellers voice, confident, clear and aware of the Story and the emotions present in the telling.
"In the year 585 in the port villiage of IJmuiden..." she pronounced it like Ayi-Myarden, "...there lived a baker named Niclause, who owned a bakery. He was very poor, but also very kind hearted. One day he was working in his bakery preparing for the Winter Yule, when..."
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And that's all for now!
But don't worry, part 2 will come tomorrow.
The Santa Society by Bob Swanson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at http://billyuno.blogspot.com/2013/12/the-santa-society-prologue-part-1.html.
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