Me, Myself and Santa Claus

Me, Myself and Santa Claus – A Christmas Carol, by Balder Hawfinch.

Here you can read the full story and allow yourself to feel the true spirit of Christmas.

About

Some facts about Me, Myself and Santa Claus – A Christmas Carol.

  • Me, Myself and Santa Claus – A Christmas Carol, is written by Balder Hawfinch.
  • The story is a translation of a Swedish Christmas tale.
  • Original Swedish title: Jag och Jultomten – en julsaga.
  • Both the original and the translation is written by Balder Hawfinch, a.k.a Balder Stenkneck.
  • The english version of Me, Myself and Santa Claus – A Christmas Carol, was originally published at lyricsforchristmas.com November 30th, 2015.
  • The story is published at lyricsforchristmas.com with all due permissions. All rights are reserved. Copyright – Balder Hawfinch.

The story

Me, myself and Santa Claus – A Christmas Carol, by Balder Hawfinch.

A new acquaintance

One evening many years ago, after a long day at the office, it was time to call it a day and head home. Ignoring the circumstances – it was the end of October and seemed like it might be pouring down at any moment – I decided to go by foot.

I was walking at a leisurely pace when suddenly rapid footsteps approached from behind. A voice with a strange accent called out:

– Excuse me sir!

It couldn’t be me he meant, I thought, and for that matter hoped, so I pretended not to hear. Instead I increased the pace. I just wanted to get home and began to regret my decision to walk. Why didn’t I take the bus as usual?

The stranger didn’t give up:

– Hello there sir! Excuse me!

A hand grabbed my shoulder and I turned around, annoyed to say the least, to convey a word of truth to the person who took such liberties against a perfect stranger.

Before me stood a miserable old man with ragged clothes. A putrid scent spread all around him and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. But then something strange happened, my mood changed and I was overwhelmed by sympathy.

The old man spoke again:

– We’d like to go with you!

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but now I was in good spirits and therefore kindly asked:

– Do you know where I’m going?

The old man gave me a toothless smile and said:

– Sure we know, you’re heading in the same direction as most of us.

Having uttered these words, the old man smiled with satisfaction. I wondered why he adressed himself as ”we”, but didn’t bother asking.

Instead I said:

– You’re right, of course, in a way.

Suddenly the old man lost his balance, I got hold of him just before he fell. Pretending like nothing happened, he looked me calmly in the eyes and croaked:

– Let’s continue together.

Once again I noticed the stench, but still couldn’t feel anything but compassion. I wondered what I had to lose, couldn’t think of anything, and to my own surprise replied:

– Sure, why not.

I let go of the old man, and, without hope of succeeding, tried to wipe my palms clean against my pants. The old man put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A large, malnourished dog emerged from the shadows and came lumbering toward us.

Once home, I filled my bathtub with hot water. The old man jumped in, and three changes of water later, along with a huge consumption of soap, he was if not clean, at least almost odorless. He borrowed some old clothes. They hung like a sack on him.

– Are you hungry? I asked.

– Like wolves! the old man replied while patting his stomach.

The he yawned and said:

– But before we eat, we need to sleep!

He lay down on the couch and fell asleep immediately. The dog lay on the floor, resting his head on the old man’s feet. Exhausted as I was, I followed their example and went to bed.

Clattering pots

I woke up just after midnight to the sound of strange voices and clattering pots.

What the heck was going on?

Familiar smells filled my nostrils and I stepped out of bed. In the kitchen a wall of humid heat met me. Candle lights flickered here and there, cooking pots simmered, and the table was covered with barrels filled with food. The old man stood at the stove and stirred, the dog sat beside him on the floor longing for something to eat.

Speechless by astonishment, I turned around and went into the living room. What I got to see there made me even more amazed. The room where I used to sit on the couch, eating chips and watching telly, was now filled to the brim with tiny gnomes, manufacturing and wrapping Christmas presents. Ready-made presents were stacked against the walls, and in the middle of the floor a vehicle was about to take shape.

Suddenly the old man shouted:

– M-E-A-L T-I-M-E!

The gnomes stopped doing what they were doing, rushed into the kitchen and threw themselves over the barrels. And there was no lack of food. There was porridge and meatballs; ham, herring and potato; stuffed turkey, Jansson’s temptation and pork sausage; root beer, ale and sauces of all kinds; saffron buns, ginger and almond mussels with cream and jam, and much, much more.

I was starving, and although I’m not particularly fond of the Christmas dishes, I crammed in as much as I could.

The old man cheered:

– That’s right! Eat! Your belly can always handle more food than you think.

The old man himself ate nothing, but as soon as a barrel was emptied, he refilled it from one of the pots. When the clock struck three, my stomach was about to burst and I was completely exhausted. I crashed into bed.

I woke up at midnight, and strangely enough, I was really, really hungry. I heard the old man shouting orders to the gnomes, helping him cooking new delicious Christmas dishes in the kitchen. In the living room the same activity as the night before took place. At the old man’s command, we sat down at the table and ate as if our lives were at stake.

The procedure continued night after night, and it didn’t take long before I lost the grip of time. For each passing night, I became increasingly heavier.

The metamorphosis

One night the old man woke me. I now had become so big, I had difficulties leaving the bed by myself. He helped me up, dressed me in a red robe and led me to the mirror. I got a shock. I was white-haired and looked much older. My eyebrows were bushy, my stomach huge, and my chin adorned with a big beard.

When the shock subsided, I was filled with happiness. I could not stop myself, my entire body was bubbling and suddenly – like a volcano that finally reaches its inevitable eruption – I burst into a hearty laugh.

– HO, HO, HO, HO!

My voice was not recognizable. What a joy! I hadn’t felt such euphoria in years.

In a corner stood the old man, looking very pleased, mumbling to himself:

– Perfect! Absolutely perfect!

He brought me into the living room where the vehicle stood finished. It was a sleigh. The magnificent reindeer strapped in front of it, reminded me of a certain malnourished dog.

I stepped up into the sleigh, pressed my enormous body down among countless Christmas gifts, while the old man tenderly stroked the reindeer and whispered something in its ear.

We flew out of the apartment into the sky. The residential area disappeared beneath us, the wind tore my beard and snowflakes danced in my face. It was amazing!

I began to laugh and couldn’t stop. With tears of joy running down my cheeks, I cried aloud:

– Giddy up Rudolph! Giddy up!

While inside my head, I heard the echo of the old man’s words:

– Perfect! Absolutely perfect!

Merry Christmas!