Children lay restless in the night. Seeing, through their window; covered in thick lairs of ice and snow of a holiday winter. A soft glow reaches from under the door near the little brotherâ€™s bed, for he hope the dark would leave him be to see what the upcoming day would give.
His sister, who was not far away, was seen resting by him, both clans in cloth nightgowns. Their button noses, unable to stop, the faint scent of mint, pine, wax, polish wood, and burnt wood from the fireplace that was beyond their door.
Quiet chines of bells ring, as to what a tall and rounded figure could only do. A deep chuckle echoed roughly through the walls.
Parents whispering snoozes left from another room. It only meant that it had to be him. Both children fearing to moved quickly and loudly that the jolly man would be gone, before they had a chance to catch a glimpse of him.
Hushing words to one another slowly left their shared bed. Inching each step; to the oak door, with care. Having the silk sheets, graze over their uncovered skin, tickling them to make a sound.
Having youthful feet land with a bare jump down, having only the carpet floor creak with the new weight. The children, frozen in place, by the sudden sound . . . and waited in the darkness of, their room. For, an ear dropping, sound too reach, them.
When nothing was given, they chanced closer and closer to the door. Hearing the clatter of small tike hand size objects landing on one another has they were being placing with care. Humbly with care, this, that only loves one, could only do.
That deep voice gave another sound of booming lark, bells played, and soon silence. With hush gasps, the children rushed to the door.
Opening it, upon finding what was left for them on a Christmas morning. And other year that they missed the man in red once again, but they knew, there was always next year.
With that, the children cheered with glee, awaken the parents with little try, and begun their day.
Happily in to, the cold winters holiday. With the family together, around the colorful and lit tree, fireplace cracking with warmth, and a faint air of peace was given to the family.
As, if the worries before, the something unknowing, never happen.
And maybe itâ€™s true.
Christmas Morning by Henry Mosler
Made in the year 1916
Location of when painted; unknown