A Holiday Tale
by Jim Elgas
Two large brown eyes peered out the doorway from a bedroom lit only by a night light. Down the hallway, the dim glow of the tree stretched its rays to meet his gaze. It was the morning he had been waiting for. Being five years old, he was accustomed to this annual event and the excitement leading up to it.
The night before, on a walk, he viewed the colored lights piercing the falling snowflakes from the surrounding houses in the neighborhood. He liked the red ones best. Back inside, he was all business: making the rounds, checking on the carefully wrapped presents while occasionally standing guard, fidgeting and changing positions next to the ones he thought were his. When he perceived that all was in order, he allowed himself to be carried off to bed, still restless.
When dawn arrived, the scent of fruit pies and a slow-cooked turkey wafted throughout the house, but the rest of the family were still soundly sleeping and had yet to stir. His patience waned as he waited for sunlight to appear through the frost-tinted window so he could run to the tree and gather up his new cache of goodies.
To pass some time and calm himself, he started recapping his behavior for the past year. Was he a good boy or a bad one? But since he really didn’t know the difference between good or bad, he gave up on the process. What presents awaited him… if any, he pondered.
He went up to one of the beds and checked for any movement. Nothing but the gentle rhythmic breathing of someone in a deep dream. He tried the other side, but got the same results.
The waiting was agonizing— minutes seemed like hours. He stretched, then yawned and repeated the process a number of times, but this only increased his impatience. Then, with his inbred sense of nature, he remembered what had worked in the past. He began whimpering like he was having a bad dream, then upped it to crying. Bingo! In an instant, the family was up and at his side.
“Poor little guy. Are you having a bad dream? You gotta go out?”
Instinct took over. Beau was on his feet bolting down the hallway.
He quickly tore into his presents, paper flying in all directions. Bone treats, a stuffed dinosaur, some weird winter dog coat, a pull toy, and his favorite thing: a ball!
All the while his tail wagged faster than a metal spring door stopper. This was his best holiday ever!
Back to Jim's Page
Can not be reproduced or used without written permission Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved.
by Jim Elgas
Two large brown eyes peered out the doorway from a bedroom lit only by a night light. Down the hallway, the dim glow of the tree stretched its rays to meet his gaze. It was the morning he had been waiting for. Being five years old, he was accustomed to this annual event and the excitement leading up to it.
The night before, on a walk, he viewed the colored lights piercing the falling snowflakes from the surrounding houses in the neighborhood. He liked the red ones best. Back inside, he was all business: making the rounds, checking on the carefully wrapped presents while occasionally standing guard, fidgeting and changing positions next to the ones he thought were his. When he perceived that all was in order, he allowed himself to be carried off to bed, still restless.
When dawn arrived, the scent of fruit pies and a slow-cooked turkey wafted throughout the house, but the rest of the family were still soundly sleeping and had yet to stir. His patience waned as he waited for sunlight to appear through the frost-tinted window so he could run to the tree and gather up his new cache of goodies.
To pass some time and calm himself, he started recapping his behavior for the past year. Was he a good boy or a bad one? But since he really didn’t know the difference between good or bad, he gave up on the process. What presents awaited him… if any, he pondered.
He went up to one of the beds and checked for any movement. Nothing but the gentle rhythmic breathing of someone in a deep dream. He tried the other side, but got the same results.
The waiting was agonizing— minutes seemed like hours. He stretched, then yawned and repeated the process a number of times, but this only increased his impatience. Then, with his inbred sense of nature, he remembered what had worked in the past. He began whimpering like he was having a bad dream, then upped it to crying. Bingo! In an instant, the family was up and at his side.
“Poor little guy. Are you having a bad dream? You gotta go out?”
Instinct took over. Beau was on his feet bolting down the hallway.
He quickly tore into his presents, paper flying in all directions. Bone treats, a stuffed dinosaur, some weird winter dog coat, a pull toy, and his favorite thing: a ball!
All the while his tail wagged faster than a metal spring door stopper. This was his best holiday ever!
Back to Jim's Page
Can not be reproduced or used without written permission Copyright © 2015 All rights reserved.