In history lessons, Katie and her class were studying the time of Queen Victoria, who reigned over Great Britain from 1837 to 1901. It was an amazing period when engineers built tunnels, bridges, and railways, and explorers trekked through the jungles, and writers turned out some of the best novels and poems ever.

But Katie’s history teacher, Mr. Old, only seemed interested in all the bad stuff. For homework, everyone had to prepare a project on how terrible it had been to be a child born into Victorian times. Katie researched Victorian schools. It seemed that education in those days meant one thing: suffering. The teachers of days gone-by made Miss Vile seem like a pussycat. They revelled in beating children with thin canes, and making them kneel for hours on a stone floor.

The only good thing you could say about going to school in the 1800s, was that it was better than the alternatives, which if you came from a poor family, could be pretty gruesome.

For example, some children as young as six, worked as chimney sweeps. Their lives were so terrible that Katie’s best friend, Isis, was close to tears when she presented her findings on them to the class. She explained how small children had to climb up chimneys, scraping their hands and knees, getting covered in soot, and always at risk of getting stuck there. Sometimes, if they were too slow, the master sweep would light a fire to hurry them up.

When Isis had finished relating all this, Mr. Old gave everyone a chance to ask questions. Samantha put up her hand and said, “Does Santa ever get stuck in the chimney?” And everyone laughed, except for Isis who felt that someone was poking fun at her hard work.

Isis was a little surprised when, afterwards, Samantha invited her to a Christmas party.

“My parents hold it every year,” explained Samantha. “It’s mainly for boring grown-ups, but I’m allowed to invite three friends my own age, and I would like you to come.”

“Well, I’m honoured,’ said Isis.

“Look, I know we don’t always get on,” said Samantha, “but I really did like your presentation, and I wasn’t taking the mick when I asked that question. You see, when I was little, my mother told me that Santa wasn’t coming that year because he had eaten too much pudding and got stuck in a chimney in Essex. I believed her, and I cried for the whole of December.”

“Oh, poor little you,” said Isis, who really did have a soft heart, and she gave her one-time enemy a hug.

Later, Isis told Katie about her unexpected invitation.

“Hmm,” said Katie, who really did not like Samantha, “You’re not going are you? It’s bound to be ghastly.”

“Of course I accepted,” replied Isis, “It would be rude to refuse the hand of friendship, and besides, I feel sorry for Samantha. Imagine if you are really little and somebody tells you that Santa isn’t coming. It’s enough to traumatise someone for life. No wonder she’s the way she is.”

“Spiteful,” added Katie.

“Listen,” said Isis, “I’d really like to do something to help Samantha. I think she hasn’t got over the pain of that childhood trauma, and if we can help heal her, she might be a nicer person.”

Katie shook her head: “What trauma? Her parents are filthy rich. She’s spoilt because her life’s too cushy.”

“Oh, Katie!” said Isis with a sigh, “everyone has their weak and vulnerable spots. Come on. Let’s help her. I’ve got such a crazy idea. Wouldn’t it be amazing if Santa came down the chimney at the Christmas party and gave everyone presents? That would be truly magical – and healing – and I’m sure she would be a better person afterwards.”

“Sure, call him and ask if he’ll do it!”

“But don’t you see?” pleaded Isis, “You can do magic. You could make something like that happen, or seem to happen. Even if it’s just somebody who looks like Santa, it would be an incredible surprise… Oh come on Katie, a good turn always comes back to you, and after all, it’s Christmas!”

Katie wasn’t interested in the plan, but Isis kept on asking and asking, and over the next few days, with the repetition, the idea began to sound quite normal, and not so bonkers after all.

It was the Friday before Christmas. School had finished for the year. Everyone was in a great mood, especially Isis who was going to Samantha’s party. Katie was in her room. She wondered what she would do. Then she looked in the mirror, and touched her ears.

“Ping!” They went all pointed. She laughed back at her reflection. Then she turned the pages of her magic book, and found the spell for turning herself into a full elf. It only took a few minor changes to the magic words to make herself into a special Christmas elf with a white beard and a red nose. Solomon, her cat, looked at her curiously and thought, “That’s no good, whoever saw a skinny Santa?”

“You’re right,” said Katie, and she found a spell to make her tummy fat. She was quite short in her new form, about the size of a six year old child, and the big belly did not feel at all comfortable, but as she glanced in the mirror she really did look
like a “jolly little elf”. All she needed now was a red dressing gown, and fortunately she had one in her cupboard. She quickly shrank it to the right size and put it on.

Now, of course Santa is supposed go around in a magical sleigh pulled by reindeer. Katie not have those, but she did have a broomstick and a cat. She went out into the back yard, climbed aboard her stick with Solomon, and off they flew through the winter night.

Katie brought the broomstick down onto the roof of Samantha’s house. It was a Victorian building, rather grand, and still had a nice big chimney. It took a little magic to loosen the clay pot off the top of it and place it on a flat part of the roof above the modern extension. Katie peered into the opening in the top of the chimney flue. It was going to be a tight fit.

“She’s not going down there, is she?” thought Solomon, “Has she gone crazy?”

…

تهیه و تنظیم: زهرا صانعی