Philip Spiess
Hey, boys and girls! While we're in the throes of the Twelve Days of Christmas, or the Winter Solstice, or the Annual Shop Till You Drop Season, or whatever it is -- it's time to recount that ageless seasonal legend of:
"HOW THE ANGEL CAME TO BE ATOP THE CHRISTMAS TREE: (A Tale of the Spirit of Christmas)":
It was many, many years ago, almost too long ago to tell when it was -- why, it was practically "once upon a time" time, it was that long ago -- when, up there at the North Pole (and it was a much longer Pole then; it hadn't begun to melt, for it was shortly after the last Ice Age), a disaster occurred -- the Elves went on strike!
Oh, yeah! they were steamed! Santa's living and working conditions -- if they even could be called such -- for the Elves were distinctly substandard. First off: freezing cold temperatures, and no heat in the bunk houses! (Santa can be stingy -- he puts all his money into making those toys, so he can look like the Big Man on Christmas Eve!) Second: 18-hour work days! (How else do you think he gets everything done in time for Christmas?) Third: Unhealthy food, including Christmas cookies and chocolates, washed down with hot cocoa (collected on Christmas Eve from the houses visited, and used for the Elves' yearly dining). (Even the reindeer get a better knosh, and daily at that!) Fourth: Inability to get any sleep, short as that sleep might be. (Those damn Christmas carols kept playing over the loud speakers 24 hours a day from the popular radio stations, with "Jingle Bell Rock" or "Feliz Navidad" repeating every seventh song or so). Fifth: The actual work was boring, boring, boring: carving toys, painting toys, wrapping toys, loading toys -- always the same, day in and day out (and the assembly line and conveyor belt had not yet been invented)! Sixth: Their shoes all curled up at the ends, cramping their toes. Seventh: -- but you get the idea.
So, as a result of all these spirit-destroying work conditions (and Elves are usually a carefree lot when they can get away, as you may surmise), they "downed tools" and went on strike! It was the week before Christmas. There was nothing that Santa could do to talk them back to work; the situation had gone on too long, with Santa refusing the Elves any negotiations or altered terms of work, for Santa is a stern taskmaster. (Remember, he sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake -- and he gives you a fat black lump of coal in your stocking if you've misbehaved -- and those stockings are harder to walk in than curved-toed shoes any day!)
So what could Santa do at this, the last minute, with so much still to be done? Well, he brought in the Angels to break the strike. Now, frankly, between you and me, there's nothing worse than a "scab" Angel. They certainly are well-meaning, and they're used to taking orders from Mr. Big, but they're not adjusted to the Santa's Toyshop kind of work (they can't even play "Feliz Navidad" on a harp), they haven't been trained, they only know how to sprinkle rainbows with color or paint the clouds with sunshine, they've never loaded a sleigh, harnessed reindeer, or given a good push at the "Dash away, all!" signal. In short, as quick workers at short notice for a Fat Man in a Mood at "Crunch Time," they were a disaster.
Finally it was Christmas Eve, and Santa was tearing out his few remaining hairs. Nothing was done, nothing was finished: paint had yet to dry, packages had to be wrapped, evergreens had to be decorated and draped, the reindeer had to be fed before their nightly journey, the sleigh had to be loaded, lists had to be checked and re-checked -- and Santa was absolutely beside himself, so many things yet to be nailed down and accomplished, and it was really time to go --
Just then the smallest Angel of them all came into the office and said, "Hi, Mr. Santy! I've got the tree decorated, just like you asked. Where do you want me to put it?" And Santa told that littlest Angel just where he could put that tree . . . .
And that, folks, is the touching, heartfelt legend of why the angel is atop the Christmas tree. "God bless us, everyone!"
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