My dearest children,
The Blessed Day has at last arrived, and this most unusual Year is drawing to a close—not a moment too soon, I think, for you living Down Below. One of the great Blessings of life here at the Pole is that (aside from Reindeer Flu and the like) we are generally free of your Human illnesses. The so-called inhospitable climate of the Great White North, coupled with our natural Isolation, has rendered the Great Pandemic of 2020 moot. Would that were true for you!
And yet Christmas has come to the Thorp Clan, on time and glittering for all that, with a deep cushion of new snow for soft landing all around—thank you, Lily, for your White Christmas wishes! You have all been entirely Blessed this year—all working or in school in a more-or-less Normal Fashion (for Humans, at least), all Healthy, and with a brand-new Wee One to extend the Thorp line. Welcome and well-met, Master Augustine! I shall await next year’s Duty Board (tell your Father, “Yes, he said ‘dooty’”) to see if I am named scribe for the Bismarck Thorps, as well—but in the meantime, the joy of Master Brendan and his beautiful bride brings into sharper focus the desires of my own Heart for Love and Family. Yes, after decades of waiting, there is a Girl, with lovely long hair and warm, smiling eyes like those of Mistress Becky! Her name is Bell, the youngest daughter of ol’ Tuggs Doubletree’s harness-making brood, a rough and rowdy lot. Miss Bell does the finest filigree tooling on Santa’s sleigh bells, and she is just as brassy and joy-filled as her name suggests. I shall have my hands full should my Desires one day be realized—but first, a Date would do!
But enough of me and my concerns: Lily, you have a couple as-yet Unanswered Questions—though I believe if you read back through past letters (14 years…bless me!) you would find you are not the First to ask these Things! I believe you asked how Santa enters homes without chimneys (a more and more common Phenomenon these days), and how the various reindeer from the great Poems and Songs are doing.
May I take the latter question first? I hope you won’t be too disappointed to know (as your sister was and does) that those earlier reindeer are No Longer with Us. Naturally, they are long passed—unlike Elves, who, though mortal, are miraculously long-lived, our Reindeer are just deer—bodily and animated creatures, well attended by Doc Vendy and others to be sure, but not the least bit magical in Themselves. Other deer have long since taken the place of Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, et al—just as there were countless generations before them—but all from the same stock and all with a Fearless Disposition with regard to treading clouds and windswept rooftops!
Indeed, nothing at the Pole is rightly conceived as magical in the Human senses of the world. Reindeer cannot fly by illusion and or sleight of hand, like that of your performing Magicians—and of course, St. Nicholas would not have even a whiff of occult nonsense or pagan Mumbo-Jumbo mixed up in his Business. Heaven forbid! What passes for magic to your eyes is really an extension of Our Lord’s teaching that, if you have Faith the size of a Mustard seed, you could move mountains. As you might imagine, if you have enough faith as to tell a Mulberry Tree to plant itself in the Sea and watch it do so, you must be Very Careful what you wish! Thus when I write of elfin mathematimagicians and aeroanimages, spells and magic, what I really refer to extreme Precision and Persistence in Prayer. We are thorough and detailed in what we ask of God’s providence and plan, in order that the miracles of Christmas as you know and love it may come to pass each year with scarcely a Ripple in the Cosmos, despite that we are doing grand and wonderous Things! Indeed one of the great Myths of life at the North Pole is that, when Master Kringle takes to the skies, we elves celebrate or take our rest. Not so! When the sleigh departs, all of us—young and old, of every trade—join Fr. Aloysius and the Sisters of Perpetual Winter for an all-night vigil including Midnight Mass, caroling and Adoration, that our plans be good, true and beautiful, and that God’s will be done through them!
Nearly out of paper from rambling, and I still have the question of how the Old Man enters homes without a chimney. In retrospect, I see I’ve answered twice before, so I will share my 2016 reply in hopes that Mistress Lily and the Family might revisit the old letters:
St. Nicholas goes where he wills, in whatever form is required: a tall and saintly bishop, a plump and fur-clad toymaker, a wisp of Christmas Spirit swirling on a winter breeze. Doors and locks are no obstacle for him—a chimney, a vent, or even a keyhole is as good as a doorway if we wished to enter!
You elder Children have made us proud here at the Pole: Master Gabriel with his missionary service and prayerful simplicity, Miss Emma—Rosebud, as your Father says—spreading Joy and expanding your Horizons at the University of Mary (or Merry, as the case may be!), and Master Trevor sharing music and growing in knowledge and faith at a new school this year. Our Watchers never tire—and never tire of watching you. May God continue to bless you now and in eternity—stay close to Him, and you will weather the Storms of This World unscathed. A very Happy Christmas to you all!
Yours Still and Always,
Yours Still and Always,
Q
Siberius Quill