Free The Christmas Chronicles by Tim Slover

you’re both to be made Saints,” said Babukar. “Like us.”
    “And the reindeer!” said Farouk enthusiastically.
    Nicholas gave Farouk a hard look. “No, not the reindeer. Animals, no matter how admirable, cannot be made Saints.”
    “What about the Lamb of God?” replied Farouk.
    “It’s a metaphor!” Babukar said. “Everyone knows that!”
    “I’m not so sure,” Farouk said. “Speaking as a shepherd, I can definitely say that sheep rank at the very pinnacle of Creation.”
    “Sheep?” Babukar protested. “They are dumber than camels!”
    “But,” asked Anna in some discomfort, “don’t people pray to Saints? I don’t think I’d like that.”
    “Oh, that’s nothing to worry about,” Nicholas said. “All prayers really go to God. You won’t even hear them.”
    “Klaus will.” They all turned to see Abigail standing with shining eyes that seemed to see beyond the walls of the big room within the small room. “One day, from all over the world, will come to Klaus the petitions of children.” Then she turned and looked at Anna. “You have longed for children, dear heart.” Anna gasped. How did she know? “So,” Abigail continued, “all the children in the world everywhere and forever now belong to you and Klaus. You are Mother and Father Christmas.” And Anna’s secret sorrow rose up and turned into joy and filled her soul. Neither she nor Klaus comprehended the size of the world nor the number of children in it, but from that hour Anna’s thoughts and feelings were ever turned toward them.
    Saint Nicholas produced a large, very thick roll ofpapers and thumped it onto the table. “Now,” he said, “we have many plans to deliberate before we bestow our gifts.”
    Babukar yawned extravagantly. “Enough!” he said. “The stars come out soon. I must watch them.”
    “Always you think of your stars!” Farouk grumbled. “Why do you not regard Creation here on earth? You take sheep, for instance—”
    “I will not take sheep!” roared Babukar. “Keep your sheep to yourself! I want nothing to do with them!”
    “Gentlemen,” said Nicholas, “we have important matters to discuss.” He started to unroll his papers. “Klaus, Anna—”
    Abigail put a hand on Nicholas’s arm. “Do you not think their hearts will tell them all they really need to know?”
    “Ah!” Babukar said, again holding up one of his ebony fingers. “That will make their lives interesting instead of boring.”
    Nicholas thought for a moment. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I see that you are right.” Then he used his intoning voice again. “Klaus and Anna will not be told. They will discover their new lives moment by moment.” He stood up from the table. “Will someone fetch the reindeer, please?” he asked.
    Anna went outside and whistled for Dasher, and he came trotting up with his brothers and sister. When the reindeer entered the room it expanded even more to accommodate the bigger crowd. The reindeer showed not the least glimmer of surprise at this; nor at being in the presence of Saints; nor, when it was explained to them, what was about to happen. “This is what we were born for,” Dasher said simply.
    “You see!” said Saint Farouk. “Animals always know. And remember, reindeer are closely related to sheep! Very closely! Are you certain, Nicholas, that we cannot make them Saints, as well?”
    Nicholas assured Farouk that Tarrying would be honor enough, and Babukar questioned the consanguinity of sheep to reindeer, and Farouk launched into a learned discourse on Animal Creation, its Orders and Families. But eventually the table and all but two of the thrones were moved aside. Anna and Klaus sat on the remaining thrones side by side, holding hands, in the middle of the room. The reindeer stood close all around them.
    Then Nicholas cleared his throat and announced, “Because Klaus has chosen freely to continue his work, it is given to us to bestow on you all the gift of Tarrying. And soI say