The Magic Knight

Humongous snowflakes mount by the minute outside, covering every branch, every car, every road with a perfect layer of white. The dark sky gets even blacker, but mommy and daddy don’t seem to care. I have my tummy full with Cheerios, so I also don’t care.

Our Christmas tree is glistening. Daddy puts the star at the very top, but there’s still one thing missing. Mommy unwraps a tiny package and carefully hands its content over to me. For the first time, I get to hang the pixie ornament right below the star. We’re all done.

Daddy helps me prepare for bed and it’s hard to hide my excitement. Tonight I get to hear, again, the best bedtime story ever.

Mommy tucks me in, gives me a goodnight kiss and sits right by my side. She begins, drawing her story not from a book, not from my comics, but from her own memories.

*

It was December 24th 1977. The Amaral family had moved to Toronto a few months ago. They were drinking eggnog and savouring Portuguese tarts in the only Portuguese bakery in town. An aroma of cinnamon filled the air.

“She’s lying, Nelly,” said Alex, poking his little sister’s head. “Don’t listen to this lunatic.”

“Alex, please, leave Clara alone!” Their mother asked for the second time that morning, and dragged the boy from Clara’s side. She turned to her husband and said, “Berto, my love, would you please pay the bill at the front and check if the cupcakes are ready to go? It’s already eleven thirty and I need to cook dinner and prepare all the desserts for this eve!”

“It’s true, OK!” Clara shrieked at her brother, her eight-year-old voice carried with fury. “If you two don’t want to believe me, I’m fine with it! But she did come to me last night and asked me to wait for her, because she will show up tonight and do some magic! All just for me!”

“Alright, everyone! I have cupcakes!” Berto smelled them close, so close his nose almost ruined the frosting. “Mmmmm! They are sooo warm and smell sooo nice... Who wants one?”

He shook a cupcake in the air, the same way someone shakes a steak at the dogs. The three kids were already fighting to grab the first one when his wife stood up:

“Later, everyone! We don’t have time for it now. C’mon, put your jackets on and let’s get going. Off we go, off we go.”

*

The afternoon went by with ease. Their father left the radio playing Christmas classics then went downstairs to fix the snowblower. Nelly, the oldest, set the dinner table as instructed by her mother and then locked herself in her room to read her paperback novels. Clara played cards with Alex but she soon got bored and went to the kitchen to help her mom with the chocolate cake. They were whipping the egg whites into fluffy clouds while shaking their hips and singing along to Jingle Bell Rock.

“Mamma, is snow as fluffy as the egg whites?”

“I don’t know, Clara,” she replied, with honesty. “I’ve never seen snow, sweetie. People say it’s magical when the snowflakes fall but I was also told that snow is a burden when it mounts on the ground, wet and heavy. Nobody stands it anymore after a while as everything turns into ice and it’s annoying to shove it all every morning. That’s really all I know. Maybe this year we will have a magical Christmas?”

“The pixie told me she will do some magic tonight.”

“Which pixie, sweetie?”

“The pixie that came to my dreams last night, Mamma. She told me to stay awake because she will do some magic after midnight. I told Nelly and Alex but they don’t believe me.”

“That’s good, Clara.” Her mother said, turning off the mixer and flipping the bowl to check the peaks of the egg whites. “I mean, it’s no good that they didn’t believe you. But it’s important that you believe in yourself and do what you have to do, sweetie. I just don’t want you to get upset if she doesn’t show up, ok? You know how pixies are, they make promises but sometimes they can’t keep them.”

“This pixie seemed nice, Mamma. I don’t think she will let me down.”

*

After dinner, the kids had fun opening their stockings hung at the window. There were candies for each one of them, and their special gifts. Nelly got hardcover novels, Alex was given skates and Clara got a journal and stickers.

When everybody was in bed, Clara tip-toed to the living room. She looked at the clock: 11:58pm. She knelt at the bay window, next to the Christmas tree. Through the open curtains, she could see the pathway and the sky softly illuminated by the street lights. Then, tons of fine gold glitter dust were flying everywhere, floating and dancing until finally painting in white everything that was still. Little by little a white layer covered every surface. Everything now looked like cupcakes topped with flat icing.

Clara was amazed. It was her first time seeing snow, and she was the first of her family to witness it too! Her eyes were glued to the flying sparkles when a green-winged butterfly landed outside the glass window.

“Hello, poppet!”

Clara fell on the floor and covered her mouth with both hands, unsure of what exactly she was trying to stop from coming out: a scream or her heart. She couldn’t believe what was right in front of her: a sweet voice coming out of a tiny, thin, winged-body posing with a golden armor, shiny green boots, curly hair.

“Oh my, oh my! It’s a knighted angel!” Clara whispered to herself.

“I’m no angel, poppet.” The winged little creature looked disappointed, and flew to Clara’s side. The girl took a closer look.

“It’s you, pixie!”

“Yes, poppet, it’s me!”, the pixie-knight giggled. She was used to these reactions. “I told you I was coming, didn’t I? If only you knew how happy I am, Clara! You made my day, er, I mean, night!”

“I’m happy for you, Mrs. Pixie-Knight!”

“You can call me, Anna, sweetie! Can you keep a secret, Clara?”

“Sure, Mrs. Pixie... I mean, Anna.”

“Yes, poppet, just Anna, please,” the pixie giggled again, and went on. “Every year, the night before Christmas, we, the pixies, visit the dreams of all pure-hearted children. We tell them we are going to show up, we ask them to wait for us... But some kids just don’t… Why would they?”, The pixie sighed, seeming a bit stressed. “Many children don’t believe in us and they are so selfish.... They get so excited with their gifts that they just forget about us!” Anna was now kicking the bay window glass with her tiny feet. “They go to bed before midnight, right after eating dessert. They forget what Christmas is about! They only care about Santa, and about their gifts the next morning…. But with that attitude, we, the pixies, cannot bring the Christmas magic! We cannot make the first snow of the year happen! Not without help… Your help. It’s ALL about believing, Clara! All of it! Do you understand?”

“Yes, I get it, Mrs. Anna.”

“And because you were so generous tonight, poppet, I’ll grant you your deepest wish.”

Anna flapped her wings and several snowflakes suspended in the air right in front of her, awaiting instructions. Then Anna produced a silver sword in the air as thin as a needle, waved it once and the floating snowflakes were now a giant snowball. Anna waved her sword-wand again and the solid white ball turned into a translucent multicolored bubble. She drew a door on it with her sword.

“Go on, poppet, go on!”

Clara hesitated. It was very cold outside and she was wearing fleece pajamas.

“Ah, I get it, poppet! Don’t you worry!”

Flapping her wand, Anna made the huge enchanted bubble go through the baywindow’s glass and stop suspended in the air right in front of Clara.

As soon as Clara went through the enchanted door, the bubble changed, shaping itself to her body. This made her warm from head to toe as if she was wearing a winter coat, boots, hat and gloves. Except she wasn’t!

“Wow! This is amazing!”

“There you go! Now that you have this magical cloak on, you can play outside in the snow until dawn! You won’t get hurt nor catch a cold! Not even a sniffle! Play as much as you wish, poppet! Go on!”

Anna waved her silver sword and floated Clara through the window glass until she safely reached the snowy ground.

Clara tried to catch snowflakes with her tongue.

“They taste as sweet as cotton candy!”

Then she dug her fingers in the snow covering a green round bush.

“They feel cold, and wet!”

“Yes, poppet, and your fingers would freeze if it wasn’t for the magic cloak!”

Clara got a stick and drew hearts, stars, and animals on the fluffy flat snow. She built a snowman, skated on the frozen lake, went sledding, skied, and played hockey with Anna. Once the sun began brightening the dark sky, Anna flew Clara back to her living room, removed the enchanted cloak and the two of them held hands. Clara was beaming.

“That was soooooo much fun!”

“It sure was! I loved it!”

“Thanks, Anna, for granting my deepest wish. I loved the snow, I loved playing with you! Thank you so so so much!” Clara gave the pixie-knight a warm hug.

“You made this happen, poppet. You made the magic happen. Thank you for believing in me and for being so kind! Off you go now! Off to bed!”

*

A few hours later, Nelly and Alex stormed into Clara’s bedroom.

“Clara, Clara!”, they shouted and shook their sister. “Wake up, Clara, wake up now!!!”

“Huh...?! What... what’s going....”

“You gotta come! You need to see this, Clara! You won’t believe it!”, Nelly said.

“C’mon, Clara!”, Alex rushed her.

Clara jumped out of bed and the kids ran to the living room. Under the bay window, there it was: a Christmas-tree ornament and a greeting card.

“That’s your pixie, Clara! Look!”, Alex pointed to the doll-shaped ornament on the floor.

“She looks just like the way you described her to us!”, said Nelly.

Clara was mesmerized by the little china doll. The pale skin, the golden armor, the green boots, the thin silver sword, the curly brown hair. She opened the card:

Dear Clara,

Thank you for believing. Thank you for helping me bring the Christmas magic this year. Hang this ornament on your Christmas tree every year, a little reminder to always keep believing in yourself.

PS.: I’ll meet you in your dreams.

*

After that, the pixie-knight Anna appeared to my mommy a few more times, then never again. She was 12 years old when they met for the last time.

Mommy kept believing in herself, and kept hanging the pixie ornament at our Christmas tree each year. She has always told me that, if a pixie shows up in my dreams on Christmas eve and asks me to wait for her, I should stay awake.

I have never told her that Emma showed up here about three times already.

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