Miss Mouse's Breakfast with Santa

Miss Mouse's Breakfast with Santa

I wrote this. I was feeling Christmasy.

Once, in a very small hole in a wall in a very large kitchen, lived Miss Mouse. She was a very small mouse, with a very small nose, and very small paws, and her very small hole was just the right size. She loved her little hole, because it was right near the big, black stove, where all the good things were baked, boiled, fried, and steamed. Every day new delicious smells would come from that great big stove, and every night the fire was banked up so that the coals would smolder until the morning. On the cold winter nights, Miss Mouse loved to curl up under the stove with her favorite shawl, and feel that warm stove and smell the memories of the feasts it had made.

On one particularly cold winter night, when the wind blew around the corners and the eaves, making sad sounds, Miss Mouse was curled under the stove when the big door to the kitchen opened and a gust of wind came in. The door shut again, and two feet came over in front of the stove. They were peculiar feet, rather small, and covered in wooly green slippers. The slippers stood on tip-toe and the little person took a big pot off the stove. This pot was making heavenly smells, and Miss Mouse desperately wanted to see what was inside it. It was such a big pot that you couldn't see much of the person carrying it, except the feet. The feet walked back to the door, and let in another gust of wind as they went through. Miss Mouse hesitated, then pattered across the floor as fast as possible to go out the door before it closed.

Outside, it was just beginning to get light out, but Miss Mouse couldn't see the pot or the feet. The snow was deep on the ground, and the air was full of crystal flakes. It was very blustery, and the cold cut right through her little shawl. She looked around and around, until she saw the foot marks in the snow. She jumped in the first one. Blasts of wind tried to squish her or pull her out of the little hole, but she kept on going, right into the next three foot marks. When she jumped to the fifth mark, a big white owl swooped down out of the darkness and tried to snatch her up. It grabbed with its big feathery feet, but she burrowed into the snow, and waited. The owl hopped around on the snow for a while, but the wind was fierce and the owl was not hungry enough to hunt around in a heap of snow. Miss Mouse was very cold now, soaked to to skin, and her little shawl was drenched. She climbed out of the hole, and hopped to the next foot mark, and then next, and the next. By now it was dawn, and the snow glistened and sparkled as it swirled around. She saw the pot again now, and the little person carrying it was just going through a door into a big wooden house, with chimneys smoking everywhere. Miss Mouse darted through the door at the last second, and it shut the cold and the wind out behind her.

Now she saw that the feet had belonged to a little man, who gave the pot to a little woman. The room was vaulted and spacious, but filled with little people like the man and woman. A wide wooden door, with knobs low down, was thrown open then, and a whole crowd of little people then trooped into this other room. Miss Mouse followed them and the big pot, and the great room she entered was so bright that she had to look at the dimmest things first. There was a dark wooden table with benches on either side, covered with a feast fit for a king. There was turkey, and ham, and fried eggs, and heaps and heaps of bacon. There were jugs of milk, and cream, and wine, and cider. There were platters of apples piled high, heaps of oranges, fried mushrooms, piles of toast with pools of creamy butter. At the end closest to Miss Mouse, there was a jolly woman, taller by twice than the little people, laughing at their antics as they closed around the table and filed into the seats. At the far end of the table was an even fatter, jollier man, laughing and waving for the little people to come and sit. But the biggest, most dazzling thing in the room, was a tall fir tree, standing upright behind where the big man sat. It was covered in glistening orbs of glass, and delicate ornaments of gold and silver. Under the tree were colorful packages covered in bright paper. At the top glistened a great gold star, and all over the tree magical lights floated, blazing white and yellow all around. It filled the hall with blazing, cheerful light, and made Miss Mouse forget for a moment how cold and tired she was.

Now all the little people were seated, except the first little man she had seen and the little woman with the pot. They ceremoniously gave the pot to the jolly woman, and as they bowed the little man caught sight of Miss Mouse. “Hello! Who have we here?” He exclaimed, “ I do believe it is Miss Mouse from the kitchens!” Miss Mouse gave her best curtsy. The little woman was very kind, and said, “Miss Mouse, would you like to join us elves in a breakfast with Santa?” Miss Mouse was very glad to do this, hanging her wet shawl by the fireplace and coming up to the table. The little elf lady made a place for Miss Mouse on the table (for even very polite mice may sit on tables to eat). Santa, that great fat jolly man, bowed his head, and they all did the same. He said grace, and then carved the turkey. Miss Mouse ate until she could hold no more, and all the elves and Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus had eaten their fill.

Now the table was cleared off, and Mrs. Claus ceremoniously went to the blazing tree and gave Santa the first present. Then everyone brought out their gifts, one by one opening and exclaiming over them. Santa gave Mrs. Claus a beautiful comb for her white hair, and she gave him a new pair of rabbit skin gloves. The head elf gave his wife a neat little green coat with beautiful designs on it, and Santa gave him a new sledge. Finally, every present had been opened. Miss Mouse had enjoyed herself immensely, and was just getting ready to slip away when Santa turned to her and asked, “What do you desire for Christmas my dear?” Miss Mouse paused. She knew exactly what it was that she wanted, but it seemed to big a thing to ask. “Anything at all my dear.” She decided. “What I most dearly want is a little kitchen of my own, in my little hole, with its own warm stove to make delicious smells of my own.” Santa looked very wise, and winked at the head elf. The head elf winked back, and then helped Mrs. Claus to put the big good smelling pot on the table. Then she opened up the lid and the delicious smell filled the room. She started scooping out heaps of popped corn, buttery and delicious. Miss Mouse ate three whole pieces, before she was too full to hold another bite. Sighing with happiness, she sat back for a moment, but now the party was breaking up and it was time to go home.

She took her leave of Mr. and Mrs. Claus, and the head elf and his wife, then she got her shawl and scurried back to the door, over the fresh new still snow, and into the kitchen. She looked at the big stove, and then her hole. The stove was so warm and delightful that she couldn't resist going under it to curl up, warm and cozy, for a snug nap after her delightful breakfast. She slept and slept, and when she woke it was quite dark outside. She pattered to her hole, but it was different. Instead of chill and shadowy, her hole was light up with warm golden light, and quite warm. She looked around, and there in the corner was a brand new stove, with a little stove pipe and a little wood stack. In the fire box was a little banked up fire, and on the warming box sat a little note. “Merry Christmas Miss Mouse, and thank you for joining us for breakfast -Santa Claus”