Contes capturés – par Bill Tiepelman
A Twinkle in Santa’s Eye
Santa’s Twinkling Eye
It was a snowy Christmas Eve, and Santa Claus had just slid down his umpteenth chimney of the night. Brushing soot from his suit, he adjusted his belt and took a moment to admire the cozy living room he’d entered. Twinkling lights on the tree cast a warm glow, stockings hung neatly over the fireplace, and the faint aroma of gingerbread filled the air. But something felt… different. Oddly magical.
Before he could pinpoint the source of his unease, a shimmering glow caught his attention. Perched atop the armchair, with legs crossed and a mischievous smile, was a fairy like no other. Her sparkling pink dress hugged her figure, and her iridescent wings glimmered in the light of the Christmas tree. A single flower nestled in her golden curls completed the look. She radiated sass, sparkle, and just a touch of trouble.
“Well, well, well,” she purred, resting her chin on her hand, “the man of the hour, all dressed up and ready to slay.”
Santa froze, his twinkling eyes widening behind his spectacles. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice equal parts curious and cautious.
The fairy hopped gracefully off the chair, her glittering heels clicking against the wooden floor. “Oh, don’t act so surprised, Saint Nick. I’ve been on your Nice and Naughty list for years. You’ve just never had the pleasure of meeting me in person.”
“Is that so?” Santa replied, folding his arms over his jolly belly. “And which list do you belong to?”
She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells, and fluttered her wings. “Depends on who’s asking. But judging by the way you’re blushing, I’d say I’m solidly in the middle.”
Santa chuckled, his cheeks indeed rosy, though whether it was from the warmth of the fire or her teasing tone, even he wasn’t sure. “Well, Miss Fairy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got gifts to deliver.”
She blocked his path with a playful pout. “Gifts? Is that all you’re about? Come on, Santa, where’s the fun? You’ve been working hard for centuries—don’t you deserve a little mischief now and then?”
“Mischief?” Santa asked, raising a bushy eyebrow. “I’ve got all the mischief I can handle up at the North Pole. Ever met a reindeer on a sugar rush? Trust me, you don’t want to.”
The fairy tilted her head, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, please. I’ve seen you wink at elves when Mrs. Claus isn’t looking. Don’t act so innocent.”
Santa gasped in mock offense. “Wink? I don’t wink!”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, crossing her arms and tapping a glittery heel. “And I don’t sprinkle fairy dust. Face it, big guy, you’ve got a twinkle in your eye that could light up the entire North Pole. But don’t worry, I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help.”
“Help?” Santa repeated, his curiosity piqued. “What kind of help are we talking about?”
The fairy grinned and produced a tiny mistletoe wand from behind her back. “Oh, you’ll see. Let’s just say I specialize in adding a little sparkle to Christmas. Now, sit tight and let me work my magic.”
Santa took a cautious step back. “Listen, Miss Fairy, I appreciate the offer, but I really do have work to do—”
“Work schmirk,” she interrupted, waving her wand. Suddenly, the room filled with a shower of glittering snowflakes, each one catching the light like a tiny star. Santa’s red suit sparkled, his boots gleamed, and even his hat seemed to puff up with extra fluff. He glanced down at himself, bewildered.
“What in the North Pole is going on?” he exclaimed.
The fairy clapped her hands with delight. “Now that’s what I call festive! You’re practically glowing, Santa. You’ll thank me later.”
Santa shook his head, trying to brush the glitter off his suit, but it clung stubbornly. “You know, Mrs. Claus is going to have questions about this.”
“Mrs. Claus?” the fairy said, her wings fluttering as she leaned closer. “She doesn’t have to know. Our little secret.”
Santa’s eyes widened. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“And you love it,” she replied with a wink.
Despite himself, Santa laughed. “Alright, you win. But only if you promise to keep this between us. I can’t have the elves thinking I’ve gone soft.”
The fairy saluted him, her expression mock-serious. “Your secret’s safe with me, Santa. Now go spread that Christmas cheer—and don’t forget to enjoy yourself along the way.”
With a final swirl of glitter, she vanished, leaving Santa alone in the glowing room. He shook his head, a bemused smile on his face. “Fairies,” he muttered, adjusting his hat. “They always know how to keep things interesting.”
And with that, he climbed back up the chimney, his suit sparkling more than ever, and continued his journey. But every now and then, as he delivered gifts, he’d catch his reflection in a frosted window and chuckle. The fairy had been right—there was a twinkle in his eye. And maybe, just maybe, he liked it that way.
Santa’s Twinkling Eye (A Poem)
Santa came down the chimney with flair, Caught off guard by a sparkle in the air. Perched on his shoulder, a fairy so fine, Draped in glitter, wings a-shine.
“Well, well,” she said with a sly little grin, “Fancy meeting you here, all covered in sin!” “Sin?” Santa laughed, adjusting his hat, “It’s soot, my dear—don’t tease me like that!”
The fairy winked and tossed her hair, “You bring the gifts, I bring the flair. Who knew Saint Nick could look so spry? Careful, big guy, you’re catching my eye!”
Santa blushed, his cheeks cherry red, “It’s the cocoa,” he mumbled, “gone to my head.” “Oh please,” she cooed, “I’ve seen you in action, Winking at elves with too much distraction!”
“Well, Miss Fairy, you’re bold, I’ll admit, But flirt all you like, I’m too old to commit.” She giggled and perched a bit closer in place, “Just teasing, dear Santa—you’re hard to replace.”
The snowflakes twirled as they shared a laugh, With mistletoe hanging from her fairy staff. “Ho ho,” he chuckled, “you’re full of surprise, But flirty fairies could lead to my demise!”
She leaned in close, her lips full of cheer, “Merry Christmas, dear Santa, now bring me my beer!”
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