Prologue

Oh, where have you gone, You blissful dreams of future happiness!

-ETA Hoffmann

December 24th, 1805

All morning there had been sounds of creaking and pounding from the forbidden dining room. With the blessing of Father Christmas, Mama and Papa were preparing the spectacle that awaited Louise, Francis and me. We played in the parlor with our toys that seem to grow duller by every passing minute as I dreamed of the new gifts yet to come. I repeatedly asked Louise to have tea with me and my doll, Madame Tussaud. Perched on the chair next to fire reading a novel, she said no, sounding more frustrated with my whining. Soon, she started to ignore me, and wouldn't even look at me.

Pouting, I served Madame Tussaud tea and discussed her need for a new frock. I couldn't help but notice her frayed dress and how her eyes were losing their shine; Madame Tussaud was in a sad state indeed. Her once fresh face was dirt stained and her hair a tangled mess. In the other corner, Francis was commanding his soldiers. With a blue and red military hat, and a wooden sword, he stood erect with his left hand in his white cotton shirt. His light brown hair a mess from rolling on the floor: pretending dodge the cannons. He looked like a poor recreation of Napoleon from a miniature painting Papa has shown us once.

Hearing the front door being push opened and familiar footsteps following, Francis and I scrambled to the door of the parlor to peek outside. Shushing at each other, we cracked open the dark wood and we saw Godfather Drosselmeyer enter the dining room across the foyer. He was carrying a large box - almost the size of the man himself. Godfather was a small thin gentleman with a long-hooked nose – he is very old. His missing right eye is covered by a black eye patch and his wig sat where his hair should have been. Despite his appearance, he was Father Christmas himself – bring wonderful toys for us to see.

I clapped my hands in excitement. "What has he made us this year?" I cried. Recalling, the time he was fixing the grandfather clock in the parlor. That time he handed Louise a box that had a forest painted on it and out popped a little red bird that twittered at her.

"A castle!" Francis exclaimed; his blue eyes shining. "With hundredsof soldiers. infantry, cavalry, and artillery with handsome uniforms. They will march on command, complete drills, and best of all, when there is an attack, they defend the castle with their lives." With a flourish of his arm, he shouted, "Fire the cannons!" He strutted around, believing that he had the greatest idea.

I surely did not want Francis to be right, I cried, "No! Godfather had told me that it is a beautiful garden with a pond in it. There will be swans with gold necklaces. And they will swim and sing pretty songs. He also said a girl will run up to the garden and feed the swans gingerbread." Happy with my prediction, I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Nonsense, swans don't eat gingerbread," he said sarcastically with his fists clenched at his sides, "and they don't wear necklaces either!" Folding his arms and rolling his eyes, "It doesn't matter anyhow, Mama and Papa take the gifts that Godfather gives us. I'd much rather have their gifts, I can keep those."

Looking at Ms. Tussaud in my arms, "I do hope that I get a new doll. Poor Ms. Tussaud."

"New cavalry recruits and wooden horses for the stable would serve me just fine. We lost a few on the battlefield." Removing his hat and lowering it to his chest in respect. Looking at our sister, still engrossed in her book, he asked: "What do you want from Papa and Mama, Louise?"

Louise sighed and closed her book, "I am too old for toys and dolls and such. I'm going to find Mama." She left the parlor and closed the door gently behind her.

Me and Francis continued to make outrageous guesses about the marvelous gifts that awaited us. After the sun had set, the parlor opens again to reveal Louise. She bade us follow her to the dining room door. Filled with excitement, Francis and I could not restrain ourselves from bolting across the hall. We chattered away with more guesses about our gifts.

"Enough of your guessing," Louise interrupted, "Listen, you two, Papa and Mama may be giving us these things, but Father Christmas knows what will truly make us happy. We should just be thankful that we receive anything at all," she stated proudly.

I looked down at my feet. Under his breath, Francis whispered grumpily, "I would still like a horse and some soldiers."

Then the sound of silver bells rang softly from inside the dining room. Papa, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement, opened the doors to reveal the delightful sight.

"Come in, my dears and see what Father Christmas has given you!" Papa proclaimed. We ran past him and gawked at the scene before us.

Mama, smiling, was seated in a chair by the tree, looking like a queen in her pale green gown. The glow of the Christmas tree gleamed in our eyes; The Grand Fir tree seemed to stretch beyond the ceiling; covered with many sweets of cookies and fruits, and other glistening trinkets. The scent of fresh baked gingerbread and pine hung in the air, and lights glowed from the tree, lighting the room with its brilliance. Christmas had arrived with as much fan fair as the last, as Francis and I ran to examine the plethora of toys and sweets that awaited us on the table by the tree. But Father scooped us up by our waists and swung us around. We giggled and squealed as we tried to escape.