A Christmas tale for you:
A CHRISTMAS PRESENT
AND so it was, that Christmas Eve, that he
was visited by three spirits.
The
first showed him his past. Showed him how happy he had been before
disappointment and circumstance had soured him.
Showed him how many of those who had clustered about his childhood and
young adulthood had made his life the easy and content one it had been. Showed him how misfortune had been arbitrary
and his bitterness unfounded. Showed him
that his success was the result of all those who had helped him along his way
and how he was linked with all those he had shared his youthful years with, how
he had not stood aloof and alone above them all. Showed him how much he owed their kindness.
The
second spirit showed him the present.
Showered him with images of small and great kindnesses from high to
low. Showed his loathed wastrel
relatives and cheating employees as human figures, not the simplistic caricatures
that he had moulded of them in his mind.
This spirit foretold of the death of a child and showed him the orphans
his people had created, the mewling miserable Want and the vicious spitting
Ignorance.
The
third spoke not a single word, but took him forwards and showed him a lonely
death, unmourned by any who knew him with squabbles over his inheritance and
finally a neglected grave in a municipal cemetery, it’s green gravel slimy and
noisome, the name on the stone almost, but not quite, illegible.
AND then he woke up.
And
it was Christmas Morning! He had not
missed it. The spirits had done their work
in one night. And he rejoiced and
promised to mend his ways. And he turned
on his computer and searched for a site that could deliver a prize goose that
very day.
There
wasn’t one.
And
the good will chilled within him. And he
reminded himself that these were hard times.
He spoke to himself to the need to be realistic, to face up to the mess
the last lot had left and of the unfortunate fact that hard times required hard
policy. And he realised that throwing
money at a problem solves nothing and it was time that people stood on their
own feet. The memory of those who had
helped him to his success faded to be replaced by his comforting assurance that
his wealth was solely down to his own hard work.
And
still the good will chilled within him as he considered the fecklessness of
those who had children they could not afford.
He rehearsed half remembered rows with his relatives, and recast them
with himself as the misunderstood but nobly realistic hero. He wondered when other peoples’ want and
ignorance had become his problem.
And
the good will finally bled away as he considered the inevitability of his end
and he told himself that while he might not be remembered with affection, he
would be remembered with respect.
And
so chilled had his good will become that it spread to his heart and froze it so
that it never could beat again. Not
once.
CHRISTMAS, as a rule, is not observed in
Hell. For sure some of the demons might
put on paper hats, but their intention is more satirical than festive. Presents are not swapped and good wishes, for
rather obvious reasons, are not offered.
That would make a mockery of the whole thing.
So
it was, on his obsidian throne, Lucifer Morningstar sat and pondered. Once the most beloved of the angels, before
his rebellion and fall, he often became melancholy at this time of year. But then he would shake out his leathern
wings, give an arrogant flick to his left horn, making it ting, and continue ruling in Hell.
This
Christmas, however, seemed different. He
was finding it difficult to shake off his heavy inertia and get on with the torturing
and punishing of the damnéd souls. It
all seemed so pointless.
And
then came a small still voice that only he could hear. And after that came a golden glow that shone
before his throne which faded to reveal the soul of a rich human who had let
his arrogance and greed chill his heart to an absolute stop this very Christmas
morn.
And
Lucifer Morningstar looked up to see the Celestial City
‘Thank
you, it’s just what I wanted.’
‘A Christmas Present’ copyright © 2012 Alastair Chadwin
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
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