This is a story about how an angel came to be traditionally on
top of a Christmas tree.
It seems that many years ago Santa came down with a serious
case of the croup a few weeks before Christmas and Mrs. Claus had to minister
to his illness. She was up and down the
steps all day with hot chicken soup, orange juice, and NyQuil.
Then two weeks before Christmas Santa's elves went on strike
demanding time-and-a-half pay for weekend and evening work. So Mrs. Claus, when she was not up and down
the stairs with the hot soup, was out in the workshop putting the finishing
touches on all the children's toys.
Then a week before Christmas Santa’s reindeer all got the
trots. So Mrs. Claus, when she was not
up and down the stairs with the hot soup and out in the workshop putting the
finishing touches on all the toys, was in the stable changing the reindeer's
bedding straw and giving them Kaopectate.
Finally Christmas Eve came and Santa was up on wobbly legs,
the elves had packed up the toys under binding arbitration, and the reindeer
were sufficiently recovered to perform their annual flight. Santa’s sleigh was piled high with his
goodies for all the children of the world.
Santa got into his sleigh, gave his team a whistle, and they were off at
last.
Mrs. Claus went back into the house and, with a deep sigh,
sank into Santa’s big easy chair by the roaring fire. Just then there came a tiny knock at the
front door. Grumpily, Mrs. Claus left
her soft chair to go see what new trouble had befallen her. When she opened the door, there was standing
the most beautiful little angel holding a lovely Christmas tree she had brought
for the Claus’s.
She sweetly said to the scowling Mrs. Claus, “I have brought
you your Christmas tree. Where would you
like me to put it?”
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