| |
It was wintertime in Orange Blossom Wood and everywhere was under a blanket of fresh white snow. Deep underground in his warren was Barnaby Rabbit.
“Cough! Cough!”
“That’s a nasty cough my boy,” said his mother, and she went straight to the kitchen to fetch some medicine. “Open wide young man,” she said, pouring some of the mixture into a spoon.
“Urgh, that’s horrible stuff,” cried Barnaby, screwing up his face in disgust. “I want to go and play in the snow.”
“Wrap up well and put these cough sweets into your pocket and suck one if you need to,” said Mrs. Rabbit, then dressed Barnaby in a warm scarf and hat and a nice thick woolen coat.
Barnaby opened the front door. “Wow, look at all that snow! I’m going to get some friends and throw snowballs and build a great big snow rabbit. Bye mum!”
“Bye Barnaby, you be careful now,” answered his mother.
“I will mum.”
Off he went through the deep snow to meet his friends and together, they decided to go to the meadow at the edge of the wood. As they neared the meadow, they came across a little wood elf. Now, seeing a wood elf was an unusually rare sight, especially on Christmas Eve, and this was Christmas Eve.
The wood elves, old, young, male and female always helped Father Christmas during the month of December, and no more important day was Christmas Eve. It was the busiest day in the Christmas calender. All the wood elves would wrap the presents, being extra careful to put the correct name on each present. Then, when everything had been checked, and checked again, the presents would be loaded onto Father Christmas’s sleigh, ready to be delivered to all the boys and girls.
As the friends approached the little elf, who was sitting, looking quite miserable, on a snow covered log, thoughts began to enter Barnaby’s head. ‘What if the elf was lost. What if today was the day after Christmas and we had all missed it. What if Christmas was cancelled!’ The thought of a cancelled Christmas was too much for Barnaby to bear. He rushed over to the wood elf. “Have they cancelled it?” he cried.
“Cancelled what?” replied the elf in a most un-cheerful voice.
“Cancelled Christmas,” said Barnaby. “Have they cancelled Christmas?”
“It’s impossible to cancel Christmas,” said the wood elf. “Christmas is about the baby Jesus, and you can’t cancel that!”
Barnaby thought for a moment, his long whiskers twitching wildly. “What’s happened then, why are you here and not helping Father Christmas?”
The little wood elf turned his face towards the group of friends. “There won’t be any presents this year,” he said. “Father Christmas isn’t well enough to deliver them. I’ve been sent by Mrs. Christmas to get a doctor, but I just don’t know where to find one.”
“Maybe I can help,” said Barnaby. “My mum’s the best medicine maker in the whole of Orange Blossom Wood.”
For the first time since their meeting, the little wood elf seemed to cheer up, but it didn’t last. “What if your mum’s medicine didn’t work quick enough. It is Christmas Eve you know.”
“It will work, and anyway, what is there to lose?” said Barnaby.
The elf soon made up his mind. He told Barnaby’s friends to go to Barnaby’s house and explain to Mrs. Rabbit what was happening. As the friends left, the elf blindfolded Barnaby and led him to a secret chamber, deep inside a hollow tree. There, they climbed aboard a strange craft with lots of flashing lights, knobs, switches and levers, many of which, the elf pulled, flicked or turned. The strange craft began to rise, very slowly at first, then, suddenly, with a loud whoosh, it flew like a rocket out of the top of the hollow tree.
By now, Barnaby had been allowed to remove his blindfold.”Gosh, this is so exciting,” he cried as he looked out of the window and watched as Orange Blossom Wood got smaller and smaller until finally, it disappeared altogether.
On they flew, mile after mile, high above the clouds until, in the distance, Barnaby saw a gigantic ice castle surrounded by myriad lights. Every colour imaginable shone in the sky.
The elf landed the strange craft on a large icy courtyard, and toy soldiers immediately escorted the pair to the great hall, where Mrs. Christmas was waiting.
“Doesn’t look like a doctor to me?” said Mrs. Christmas, eyeing Barnaby. “Looks more like a rabbit, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Christmas,” said the elf. “I couldn’t find a doctor, and besides, young Barnaby here says that his mum is better than any real doctor. If Father Christmas will see him, then maybe Barnaby can tell his mum what’s needed.”
“I suppose we have no choice if the presents are to be delivered this year. Follow me,” said Mrs. Christmas, and she rushed as quickly as her legs could carry her up a winding staircase that led to the top of the castle.
Long before they arrived at Father Christmas’s bedroom, a loud coughing could be heard. Wheeze wheeze, cough cough, wheeze wheeze, and so it went on, echoing all around the castle.
A toy soldier opened the bedroom door and they entered. Lying on a large bed was Father Christmas.
“The poor dear has been like this for days,” said Mrs. Christmas. “I just don’t know what to do.” She looked at Barnaby, “I’m very sorry little rabbit, I didn’t mean to be rude to you. Father Christmas has never missed Christmas Eve before.”
Barnaby said that no apology was necessary, and he was sure that his mother’s medicine would save the day. He put his hand in his coat pocket and tried hard to think. “The cough sweets!” he shouted.“I’ve got the cough sweets. Here Father Christmas, suck one of these. My mum made them and they’ll get rid of any cough.”
Father Christmas opened his mouth and Barnaby popped one of the cough sweets in, then they all waited. Wheeze wheeze, cough… Silence. No coughing, no wheezing.
“My young rabbit,” said Father Christmas, “that is wonderful.”
“Here’s another one,” said Barnaby. “Keep it with you just in case, although you should be alright.”
“Well my dear,” said Father Christmas to Mrs. Christmas, “the presents will be delivered after all thanks to this remarkable young rabbit and his mother.”
“And me,” said the wood elf. “I found him!”
Father Christmas let out a loud “Ho, Ho, Ho.” and arranged for Barnaby Rabbit to have something warm to eat and drink before the long journey home to Orange Blossom Wood.
“We mustn’t let Mrs. Rabbit worry about her young Barnaby,” said Father Christmas. “And, as everyone knows, Father Christmas won’t come down the chimney unless the children are asleep! So off you go Barnaby, and a Merry Christmas.”
Barnaby said his goodbyes and was soon flying home in the strange craft. It was almost dark when they arrived back at Orange Blossom Wood. The elf landed right on the edge of the meadow so that Barnaby wouldn’t have to wear the blindfold. After waving goodbye to the elf, Barnaby made his way home.
“Goodness me, you’ve been a long time,” said Mrs. Rabbit. “How is Father Christmas?”
“He’s much better now that he’s had one of your cough sweets,” replied Barnaby, then, sitting next to his mother, in front of a warm fire, Barnaby told her all about his exciting journey in the strange flying craft piloted by the wood elf. And the gigantic ice castle where Father Christmas lives with Mrs. Christmas. And how the cough sweet worked almost straight away.
But all too soon, Barnaby Rabbit was yawning. It was time for sleep. Barnaby, tired, but still excited, put his Christmas stocking on the end of his bed, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Next morning, Christmas morning, Barnaby awoke and rushed to the Christmas stocking. It felt very light. He put his head inside it. Then, further inside it. The stocking was empty. Barnaby showed the empty stocking to his mother.”Maybe the cough sweet didn’t work long enough,” he said. “And maybe Father Christmas didn’t get to deliver the presents after all.”
Mrs. Rabbit tried to comfort her son. “Never mind love, at least you tried, and there’s always next year.”
Barnaby agreed, although he was rather unhappy at not getting any presents. “Can I go and tell my pals about the cough sweets mum?” he asked.
“Of course you can, but wrap up warm, it’s been snowing again.”
Barnaby opened the front door and what he saw…. Well, he nearly fell over. Outside, on the snow was a large parcel with his name on it, and a message. It read: To Barnaby Rabbit, a Special Present From Father Christmas.
“Mum, MUM!” he called. “He’s been. Father Christmas has been!”
Before you could say, Dorothy Boggy Bottoms, Barnaby had demolished all the wrapping paper and standing back, he looked at his present in total amazement. Before him was a large model of the strange craft that the wood elf had taken him in to see Father Christmas.
Lights flashed, knobs turned, levers pulled and switches switched. It was beautiful. Of course, it couldn’t fly. Only the real one could do that! But Barnaby didn’t care; it was the best Christmas present ever!
The End
Peter Allchin © 2006
|
|
