A Master's Christmas Carol
SS: I know there a lot of poety looking writing, but it's part of the story. And there is normal text too. Don't panic, it's supposed to be that way.
This is my contrubtation to the christmas season.
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It was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Every creature was stirring
Including the mouse
-
Oh everyone was up
In a hustle and bustle
But only one noticed
The sad master's shuffle
-
With a shrug of his shoulders
He plopped on his chair
Every year it seemed
He wound up sitting there
-
With a sigh on his breath
He looked up at the tree
Placed by the hearth
As he sipped his tea
-
Now Master's good friend
Thought enough was enough
And he put down his box
Of glittery stuff
-
He walked over to
The very rich man
And this my dear friends
Is where our story began
-
Masters had fallen
Deep into thought
He was beginning to feel
His very soul rot
-
He longed for a family
To with him that day
Would gladly trade his wealth
To have his own children at play
-
Here on the rug
Waiting for Christmas soon
Instead of being alone
This winter noon
-
"Quit moping ." Skulker said
With a mighty shove
Pushing Masters out of the chair
And onto the rug
-
"I'm tired of watching
You scuttle around."
He said as Masters got up
With out a sound
-
"I'll kick you out of the mansion
Out the front gate
And you'd better come back happy
And not in this sorry state."
-
And out the front door
He was kicked by a boot
He landed in snow
And was happy it wasn't soot
-
Getting up from the ground
He sighed with a shrug
He wasn't getting back into the mansion
Without getting over this bug
-
Wisconsin orphanage was in a sorry state. The warden always sent the kids to bed with no playtime. Not a single toy had entered it's walls in twenty years.
No one out side the orphanage knew nor did they care. Many were busy with their own affairs.
But as Masters walked down this quiet street a sudden urge was signaled from his feet. Up to the front door he was carried, and in his head it registered that misery loves company.
Who else would know his longing for family better that those who had one not? So his hand rose to the handle and he let himself in.
But it was no laughter that he heard, but emptiness like the one deep in his heart. The font desk was unmanned for it was close to the holiday. He slipped into the back room.
What he found made his chest ach, the children were all sitting on their beds on this nice day. Not a toy in sight nor a laugh in the air.
A small girl, called Suzie Sue was the first to see him. Her eyes were filled with dread, and she cuddled up with her blanket. Her baby-blues filled with frightened tears and a whimper caught in her throat at his approach.
One of the boys, little Jimmy Jo, caught sight of his silver hair, and whispered a single word, "Santa."
A smile tried to creep onto his face, the word had echoed in the quiet of the place. He sat on Suzie's bed and called her over with a gesture of his hand.
"I'm not Santa, he is a busy man. But I am one of his helpers. Now come here and tell me about yourself."
Suzie instead, stayed where she was, "Santa is not real, the Warden said so." she said between sniffs.
The frown fitted its self more easily to his face. "Santa is most certainly real. I have seen him myself. Now where is he Christmas tree, the presents, the joy?"
The other children listened intently, and Master noticed the rags they wore, the dreary state of their beds, and the cold of the room that was not in the temperature. Little Jo spoke up, "Toys aren't allowed, sir. They get in the way."
If the fear in the room were a lighted match, those words were litter fluid pored over the flame of fury inside of him. No toys for children so young? No wonder they were all afraid of him.
With no children of his own that he could raise and play with, his parental instinct sparked within reached out and clung t these children who had no parents to do the teaching. He'd give up his mansion, servants and maids, before sitting back and letting this happen.
"Come here little miss and tell me what you want for Christmas.'
"But the warden…'
"Oh I'll handle him. For now come, sit in my lap. Santa needs all the help he can get, I'm afraid for the past few years, you have been missed."
Setting herself daintily into his lap, she said with a small light in her eyes, "I'm Suzie Sue, and I want a doll for Christmas."
He smiled and patted her hair. "You have been a good girl this year; I'll see what I can do."
And down the lines of children he went, every name coupled with a toy.
When he was on the last child, Jeremy Jim, the warden came bustling in the door. "What are you doing?" he asked with a roar, "Get out!"
Sliding the young boy onto the floor, masters rose from the bed with fire in his eyes. "You and I are going to have a nice little talk about how you care for children.
"You can't tell me what to do!" The warden cried in purple faced furry.
"Actually I can." Masters said with a dragon's grin. He stepped out of the door with the warden on his hand. "'You see, I now own these grounds."
-
It was the day before Christmas
And all though the house
There was a happy shriek
That sounded like a mouse
-
Children clamored
Upon the stairs
Laugher the and joy
Filled the air
-
And Masters sat down
Upon the rug
As little Suzie Sue
Gave him a hug
-
From behind his back
He produced a present
More beautiful colored
Than a pheasant