10/12- Magic- Daisy's Dilemma

Contemporary

“What are you going to ask for this year?” Mum leaned over Daisy, whispering in her ear softly, a gentle smile on her warm face. She could recognise the Christmas smile; it meant that she and Fred were being good this year, and that she was relieved that no one, including their old cat Cookie, had tried to eat the Christmas decorations. Daisy also recognised the question. It's the same question every year, without fail. And every year she knew the answer. 

She would sit in her cozy yet rundown chair, pondering for a few moments before scribbling a frantic list. As she grew up, her handwriting improved, and the details in her lists increased; she always made sure Santa knew exactly what she wanted.

Last year, she had colour-coded all her requests, with the most important items (such as a new loom-band kit, because Fred her brother had snapped her last supplies) were in purple, and the things which she sort of wants (like a new water bottle for school) were in blue and the least important, or the things she was least likely to get (like a rocking chair) were in green.

“I don’t know,” she moaned dramatically, falling face-first onto the piles of scrunched-up balls of paper; her letters to Santa. Being a stubborn nine-year-old girl (though she would add she was turning 10 in thirty six days), she had heard her friends say that ‘Santa wasn’t real’ or how ‘it’s impossible for him to travel around the world in one night’. Ridiculous! 

Or so she has initially thought. How else would they get presents on Christmas? She was a true believer! But then she thought about it… is he real? No one has been able to catch him on camera, and mum always leaned over her shoulder as she wrote her letters.

Daisy looked back at her mum, and told her with full determination, that she needed time to think. Mum, knowing she was reaching the age of doubt, told her “That’s ok, dear.” and kissed her on the head, snuggling in Daisy’s hair for a moment. “We have until Friday, and only then will Santa take in our letters.” the comment earned mum an overly-pointed scowl. Has she been lying to Daisy for the past (almost) ten years? Would it ever be forgivable?

Mum left the room, shutting the door on her way out. Daisy toyed with the idea of discussing the subject with Fred, then remembered he’s at football practice. She’ll have to figure this out on her own. 

Zooming to the other end of her room, she rummaged through her crafts box to find a notebook. The one she found only had one paged filled with failed song lyrics, and after a short struggle, she managed to rip it out. Perfect. A blank notebook for her investigation.

She’ll figure out the truth about Santa. If she interviews everyone seperately, they won’t have time to talk about their strategy and fool her.

But who to start with? So many great options! There’s Fred, who is brutally truthful, but he’s at football practice, which is the main problem. He would have been perfect to start with, and she probably wouldn’t have to even ask anyone else. However, she could also interview dad: funny, and always up for some fun or interrogation.

“Daddy!” She called, her voice echoing throughout the house. “Come here!” At his daughter’s command, Dad practically jogged up the stairs, bursting her doors open a moment later.

“Yes, darling?”

Daisy gave him the best I’m-the-one-asking-questions glare she could, and told him to sit down on her bed. She spun around on her chair, and put her notebook on her lap, ready, meanwhile her dad furrowed his brow at her.

“Tell me the truth about Santa.” She said with such seriousness, the only way dad wouldn’t burst out laughing was by not replying for a long while. He pulled Daisy onto his lap, his arms strong and comforting.

“Well, Santa is magical. He only exists if you believe in him, and the more children who believe, the stronger he gets, and the more joy he can spread. Do you believe in him?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out! You’re no help.” She scrambled off him, and slumped back in her chair, pouting. Is everyone going to give her the same vague responses?

*

The next day at school, everyone was buzzing. Last day of school this year! They were lucky to finish two days early, compared to other schools (like Fred's), which made them stay until Friday. But that also meant she only had one day to ask her friends what they thought about Santa.

Daisy had two main friends. At least, ones she could ask their sacred opinions on this topic. Tabatha and Dorothy.

She went to Tabatha first, as they sat next to each other in class. Her question was simple, but when she asked, Tabatha looked appalled. "What do you mean? Of course, Santa is real! How else do you expect presents to magically appear under the tree?"

But when Daisy asked Dorothy, she laughed in her face. "You still believe in Santa? That's sad."

It was like Dorothy had physically ripped her heart out, but she didn't reply, just walked back over to Tabatha, and sat on the bench. No one is helping! Everyone is saying something different!

"Is Santa real?" Tabatha whispered, clearly having overheard Daisy's conversation. But now was the time to think. Is he real? Her whole investigation led to this very moment.

"Yes." Daisy's grin spread across her whole face, and her light spread to Tabatha as she kept talking. "Some deny it, because they think they're too grown-up for him, but he's there. No one knows what he's really like, other than he spreads Christmas magic."

*

"Ready!" Daisy yelled as she hopped down the stairs. Her list was somehow even more extravagant than. last year's. All she had been able to think about was her list. Because every year, when the presents were eventually under the tree, she knew the joy she would feel. Some form of magic is present at Christmas.

She didn't know if it was Santa, but he was an easier way for some to understand the magic of Christmas. Like for Daisy and Tabatha.

As long as Daisy possibly can, she'll keep the belief in Santa alive. Not for her sake, but for her friends, and all those who need a little more magic in their lives.

Thank you for reading. I hope you got a little Christmas joy from this story. Here, for anyone who wants it, is the maintenance.

If you enjoyed this story, please, please, please (I can add a cherry if necessary) like, comment, rate and share. It really helps me out and allows others to see these (hopefully decent) stories. Thank you, and Merry Christmas.