Santa's Daughter

Santa’s Daughter

Copyright Kristina Howells

Smashwords Edition

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Santa’s Daughter

There was something beautiful about the shining high in the winter sky, beside the stars shining nearby.

‘Mummy, do you think Santa really exists,’ Amanda asked.

‘Of course dear,’ replied her mother Melanie, trying to be optimistic.

She knew herself that at the age of five, children loved to ask questions. But, when Melanie as her age, she had a different childhood. It was one, every child yearns for. Melanie was the youngest daughter of Father Christmas.

Life wasn’t easy for the little girl. She would busily help the elf’s pack the presents for all the children, worldwide. School was out of the question. She was taught at home.

Some day’s Melanie felt that she was born to be a machine. A machine that would turn out hundreds of presents; year in, year out.

Her older siblings loved it. They enjoyed being part of the Christmas factory. Their father made sure, they all benefited from the Christmas euphoria.

For Melanie though, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t a demanding child, just attentions seeking.

‘Dad, what’s life like, when you give all the presents to all the children?’ she asked.

‘It’s fun to get into the sleigh, year in, year out. Drink the brandy left on the table by their parents, and give the reindeers minced pies. It made the job worthwhile, my dear Melanie.’

Melanie wasn’t convinced. She wanted to know more.

By the time she reached sixteen years of age. She had had enough. She started to rebel. This made her father sad;

But the problems finally led to one thing, expulsion. Father Christmas gave her enough money to make her way in the world. He put her on his sleigh, and accompanied her to the train station.

‘I wish you all the best my daughter,’ he said with tears streaming down his face. ‘You know where I am. You just write if you need anything.’

Melanie gave her father a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. She got out of the sleigh, and made her way inside the train station, watching her father disappear on his sleigh.

She was now alone. It was the first time in her life that she felt any sense of independence. This was something she longed for, for so long. She had no qualifications. She learnt how to make toys for both boys and girls. She knew nothing else.

To her, the world was a mystery, one that she was slowly going to discover. It was completely different from the safe haven, which protected her from the reality of life. She was now going to discover what life was really like, in the real world.

Standing all alone at the station, Melanie didn’t know what to do. Then a man in his early twenties with dark-hair approached her.

‘You look lost,’ he said.

‘Erm, I am,’ she stuttered.

‘I’m all alone too, would you like to join me?’ he asked.

Melanie accepted his kind invitation. As time went on, they became a couple. Melanie fell pregnant, and Amanda was born.

Amanda became the centre of her life. Things hadn’t worked out with her father, and they went their separate ways. Melanie often thought back to her own childhood. Her daughter was going to have a very different one. She would go to school, and have a life Melanie never had.

When Amanda was old enough to ask her questions, Melanie wanted to tell her the truth. She was afraid. She didn’t know how she would react to the fact that her grandfather was Santa. She knew that her father would be keeping an eye on her.

‘Maybe, I’ll tell Amanda the truth when she’s older,’ Melanie thought. ‘I want her to discover the world first, and not be a toymaker.’

Amanda never stopped asking her mother questions about Father Christmas. The older she got, the guiltier Melanie had become. Amanda was by now ten years old.

‘She has a right to know,’ she thought. ‘I’ll tell her on Christmas Eve.’

Christmas Eve soon arrived. Amanda was getting excited. She loved Christmas. Melanie couldn’t match her enthusiasm. She secretly didn’t like Christmas. This was partly to do with her childhood.

As she put Amanda to bed, she read her a story about Father Christmas. Telling her, how he comes on his sleigh with reindeers towing it. Then he climbs down the chimney with his sack, leaving the presents under the tree. Before leaving, he drinks the brandy, and gives the mince pies to the reindeers.

Amanda enjoyed listening to her mother, as she spoke about Father Christmas.

‘Darling, I’ve got something to tell you.’

‘What’s that mummy?’

‘Father Christmas is your granddad.’

‘Cool,’ Amanda exclaimed. ‘So granddad is Santa. Will I get to give him a hug?’

Melanie was lost for words. Maybe it was time to mend the bridges, and write to her father. She felt guilty in denying her daughter the right to see her parents. They were after all, a part of her.

During the night, Amanda tried to stay awake. She wanted to see Santa, her granddad. Melanie did too.

But Father Christmas never showed. All Melanie could do was to write to him.

‘Dear Father,

I’m sorry for what had happened in the past. I have a daughter now. She is ten years old, and called Amanda. She is always asking after you.

I do hope that I can come to meet you, and introduce you to her. She is a lovely little girl, and is part of the family.

Please get in touch,

I look forward to hearing from you very soon.

All my love,

Melanie.’

Melanie then posted it. She hoped that her father would reply. But no reply came.

Then out of the blue, Melanie noticed a competition in her local newspaper. It wanted people to write in,