The Mover December 2012

38 The Mover ● December 2012 ● www.themover.co.ukSTORY: A CHRISTMAS WISHA Christmas WishA children’s story for Christmas, by Steve Jordan.There were lots of thingsthat Jamie wanted forChristmas. He wasn’t agreedy boy you understand,he just liked doing lots of things.Jamie would have asked FatherChristmas for a new bike, he’dgrown out of his old one and anywayit still had the little wheels on theside and they were only for babies,but he’d got one only a few weeksbefore, for his ninth birthday. It wasred and shiny and his mum anddad had wrapped it up in X-menpaper and tied it with red string. Butthat was before Dad and Jake wentaway.Since then things had changed.Dad had gone to work in Afghanistan.He was a soldier. A sapper Dad said,but Jamie didn’t know what thatmeant. Jake, his elder brother, was20 and he’d gone away too. He wasworking as a barman in London.Jamie and his mum hadn’t seen himfor months.Only a few days ago Jamie hadwritten his Christmas list and sentit up the chimney just as Dad hadshown him. He’d asked for someroller blades, three Xbox games(but Mum didn’t like him havingthe fighting ones), an iPod (whichhe knew was too expensive but …),some Nike trainers, a rucksack forthe next scout camp, and lots morethat he couldn’t remember. Hewanted all of them, and none of them.He would have given up them all,screwed up the list and never lookedat it again, if Father Christmas wouldjust make his mum smile again.Smile the way she used to do, withher eyes and her heart, not just hermouth.It was Christmas Eve. It was nearly9.00pm and Jamie had sat still andquiet for ages hoping that Mumwould forget to send him to bed. Buteventually she read him his bedtimestory, gave him a hug and shushedhim up the stairs. “Now no gettingup Jamie,” she said, “or Santa mightnot come.”Jamie lay awake. He wantedChristmas day to come but it wouldn’tbe the same with just the two of them.As he lay staring at the ceiling of hisbedroom in the half light, he becameaware of something. It wasn’tfrightening. It was warm, gentle,kind. It was there, but it wasn’tanywhere. And there was a reallystrong smell of sweet spice, justlike the candle that burned on thehearth in the living room. Therewas no sound, nobody spoke, butJamie knew something. He knewfor sure what this ‘presence’ wasasking him to do. He had to make awish. Just one. Not like in the storieswhere the genie grants three wishes.Without hearing or seeing a thing,Jamie knew that he had only one.Hecould wish for anything in the worldand it would be his. Would it be theiPod, the trainers, the blades …Christmas morning came andJamie remembered his strange dreamfrom the night before. It was stilldark but Jamie figured he’d waitedlong enough. He crept into his mum’sroom, tugged at the duvet andclimbed in with her. It was warm,safe and scented in the big bed, atMum’s side it was anyway. Jamiecould never understand why Mumalways slept on her side of the bedeven when Dad wasn’t there.“Mum, can we get up now? Can wesee if he’s been?”The lights of the tree twinkled asJamie and his mum peeped aroundthe living room door. There, as Jamiehad hoped, was a small pile ofpresents just for him. He opened one,then another. Then he stopped, ranupstairs and came down, beaming,holding a package, lovingly wrappedin white paper with a red-nosedreindeer motif, for his mum. Shesmiled, the thin one he’d grown usedto, opened the parcel, hugged himand, he thought, wept a little.Nana arrived and helped mummake dinner. She was a good nanabut Jamie wished she wouldn’talways want to kiss him. The hair onher chin always tickled. Grandadand Grandma came soon after. Eachbrought something for Jamie. Bymidday he was wearing his trainers,the Xbox games - the fighting ones- were already upstairs in his roomand Grandad had a twinkle in hiseye. His new iPod, from Mum andDad, was already downloading hisfavourite stuff off the computer.Then, the doorbell rang. “Hi mum,hi Jamie” came the shout as Jakepoked his head around the door.Mum hugged him really hard. Shewas crying again but this time thetears were different. This time theywere of relief. Tears of joy for Jake’ssafe return. “Hi Buster,” said Jaketo Jamie. He always called himBuster; Jamie didn’t know why buthe kind of liked it. “Beat you atXbox.” He picked Jamie up andswung him around twice.As his feet touched the carpetsomething strange happened: Jamiecould smell sweet spice again. Helooked around but there wasnothing to be seen. Then he hearda car horn outside and a door bang.His mum dashed into the room,taking off her cooking apron as sheran. She said nothing, just squeezedJamie and Jake’s hands. At the mirrorin the hall she paused, touched herhair, smoothed her skirt and openedthe front door. Jamie stood, held hisbrother’s hand, as the sweet smellof Christmas spices grew strongerand stronger.As he waited, Jamie held hisbreath, but he already knew thatlast night had been no dream - andhis Christmas wish was about tocome true.