“What’s that? Up in the sky?”
“Is it a man? Is it a giant bird?”
“Is it glowing? Is it all lit up?’
“Is it wearing underwear over
The crowd mumbled and
shuffled in the cold December
night as they gazed skyward at
the curious red object streaking
through the winter air.
“Is that…? Christmas Man?!”
“It is! It’s Christmas Man!”
“Hooray, here to save us all!”
“He’ll save us, I’m sure of it!”
“Oh, lucky day!”
Christmas Man defender of
cheer and goodwill toward man,
a man of Yule and merry tidings,
a superhero born to bring hope,
and a Union chimney sweeper.
“I hope he can help me carry my
heavy shopping bags to my car!”
“I hope he salts this slippery sidewalk!”
“I hope he keeps my crazy Uncle quiet
during Christmas dinner!”
Christmas Man waved to the crowds
as he zoomed overhead. He had a mission
this night. A mission of mercy for the
needy. A mission to save Christmas from
“Hey! Christmas Man! Where are you
“Yeah, hey buddy, what the heck!”
“Salt this slippery sidewalk!”
“Where’s he going? What a Jerk!”
Christmas Man flew over the city,
he flew over the country, his red cape
trimmed in white fur, flapping behind
him in his speedy flight. He waved when he
could to the people below.
“Up yours Christmas Man!”
“Get bent Christmas Man!”
“Salt this sidewalk!”
“Get lost Christmas Man!”
“You’re a flash in the pan!”
Christmas Man had no time
for their jibes. Yet he did wipe
a small tear from the corner of
his eye. It might have been from
the cold wind in his face.
“Christmas Man, what a joke.”
“He only comes one time a year.”
“I fell on this slippery sidewalk!”
“I’ve never actually met him.”
“Yeah, he’s never done anything for me.”
The crowds on the city streets dispersed,
the country folks went back inside the
businesses on Main Street. They griped
and grumbled and fixed their collars against
Christmas Man arrived at a small
village where a water borne
sickness had ravaged the villagers.
He offered to set up a Christmas tree,
with lights and bells.
“No thank you Christmas Man,” said the Doctor,
“but maybe you can hold that child there and
provide her some comfort in her last minutes.”
Christmas Man looked at the small girl, weak from
sickness, taking slow sluggish breaths.
“How about I sing a little Oh, Little Town
of Bethlehem,” asked Christmas Man.
“Um, sure Christmas Man, just stay out
of the way,” said the exhausted Doctor.
“Great! I’m sure that’ll help,” said Christmas Man.
The Doctor rolled his eyes as Christmas Man
began to sing. The child turned away.
The doctor moved on to the next sick child as
Christmas Man sang with his eyes closed, willing
the Spirit of good tidings to manifest.
“What is that madman doing?”
“I think he’s singing.”
“Why doesn’t he help clean the water?”
“I don’t think that’s what he does.”
“Who does then?”
Christmas Man finished his song.
A few villagers still able to move applauded
politely. Christmas Man gave them a quick
salute and turned to the center of the village,
“Merry Christmas to All,” he said with a wave.
Christmas Man shot up into the sky leaving
a trail of Christmas lights and the smell of
hot Gingerbread in his wake.
“Son of a biscuit,” said the Doctor.
“Is it really Christmas,” asked a sick villager.
“It is. It really is, somewhere” said the Doctor.
Somewhere there were sleigh bells jingling,
and church bells were ringing, and a distant
chorus sang carols on the night breeze.
“It is Christmas,” said the Doctor.