Saint Nicholas

Village story (8)

Written: © Maxima

Saint Nicholas

Mother was moving around the kitchen table, kneading the dough with a great skill, then rolling it… it seemed to last forever. It was warm inside. The earthen floor, a big stove with logs piled at its side and our cat Pero, dreaming lazily close to it. Father named him after a friend of his, a miller with big moustaches. As usual, I was under the table, teasing the cat with a piece of thread, wishing he would wake up and play with me. It was the middle of the afternoon and Father came in from work.

– Hurry up, Mata! Close the door, Mother shouted. – It has to be warm. Otherwise it wouldn’t rise.
Father closed the door quickly, smiled at her under the brim of his hat, his eyes gleaming as he said, It wouldn’t rise, huh?
– You, little devil, aren’t you ever gonna get serious? Your boy’s here, under the table, playing, and you talk gibberish.
– Calm down, he said, I meant no harm.
– Me, neither, she said, pouring some brandy into his favourite glass. He used to have one or two every day after work, for better blood circulation, he would say.

– Hey, Stipa, my pumpkin, what’s up, he addressed me. I was already climbing up his back. It was my favourite spot. I enjoyed sitting on his broad shoulders and ruffle his thick hair…
You know, Stipa, I noticed children washing their gift stockings in the other village, getting ready for Saint Nicholas’ visit. You have been good this year, haven’t you? You might get some presents, too.

-Hm, maybe not, Mother added. Saint Nicholas knows everything, he knows who did what and gives presents accordingly. If you have obeyed your parents, showed respect to grown-ups, helped around the house…if you haven’t defied your sister, have been a good pupil at school, then you may expect some presents.
-But I don’t go to school yet. And I have been a good boy, right, Dad?
-You have, my boy. Have you prepared your stocking?
-He has. He put it up at noon, said Mother and began to close the shutters.
-No, Mother, I cried. Let them stay open so that Saint Nicholas can see there are children here…and I, I love getting presents…

In the semi-dark room shadows started a magical dance, swaying like birch branches in the breeze. Mother finished dinner and set the table… At that very moment the clang of chains was heard below the window of our warm home.
-Krampus, said Father.

A special gift from me, that goes along with other presents given by Saint Nicholas, to all the children in the world
Thinking of you


Just when the evening
On the birch crown started dancing
Daddy’s little princess
On the window pane placed a stocking

And when the darkness set in
The moon light brought joy
Another stocking was put
By a big little boy

Soon enough two happy faces
Flew into a blissful dream
Knowing that Saint Nicholas
Will fill them, sure thin’

If by any chance
Big little boy’s stocking
Had a stick within
He’d know the princess
Should be blamed
Her mischief was seen.
Happy St Nicholas!


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7 thoughts on “Saint Nicholas

  1. stockdalewolfe December 29, 2014 at 17:46 Reply

    Wonderful, Maxima. Merry Christmas and Happy 2015!! i know you sent me something and I can’t find it. I am sorry, my husband is recuping from pneumonia and it has been hard times. Forgive me. Thank you for all your visits and for your wonderful blog! xx ellen

  2. niasunset December 7, 2014 at 09:21 Reply

    Beautiful story and poem, but as always romantic poet 🙂 Thank you, Happy Nicholas to you. Love, nia

  3. Christy Birmingham December 6, 2014 at 20:54 Reply

    Wonderful words and poem for Christmas time, Maxima!

  4. mondidascoprire December 6, 2014 at 15:43 Reply

    I love Saint Nicholas !

  5. 2embracethelight December 6, 2014 at 08:17 Reply

    Very engaging. I felt I was participating in the story. For me that is a sign of a good story line.

  6. Dina December 5, 2014 at 22:54 Reply

    Thank YOU for this charming gift, Maxima! Happy Nicholas to you as well. ❤

  7. ladyfromhamburg December 5, 2014 at 21:23 Reply

    Beautiful story and poem! Happy St Nicholas!

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