Santa's Goodnight Rounds

On the night before the busiest night of the year, the North Pole goes very quiet. The workshop hammers stop. The paint pots get their lids on. And by nine o'clock every elf is supposed to be in bed, with their slippers lined up and their hats on the hook.

Every elf except one. Tinsel was sitting up in her bunk with her blanket round her shoulders and her eyes wide open. Tinsel tied the bows on the presents, all of them, and she had a feeling. It was a small, wriggly feeling that she had forgotten something.

There was a soft knock on the dormitory door, and in came Santa Claus with a lantern, in his dressing gown and his old slippers with the holes in the toes. "Can't sleep?" he whispered. Tinsel shook her head. "Neither can I," said Santa, "not until I've done my goodnight rounds. Want to come?"

So they went, the two of them, in a circle of lantern light. Their first stop was the Wrapping Room. The rolls of paper were stacked in rows like sleeping logs, and the ribbon reels sat on their pegs. Tinsel checked the bow basket, and it was empty, because every bow was tied. "Goodnight, Wrapping Room," said Santa softly.

Next was the Bell Cupboard. All the sleigh bells had been polished until they shone, and each one was wrapped in a sock, so they would not jingle in the night and wake anybody up. "Goodnight, bells," whispered Tinsel. One bell gave a tiny, muffled jing from inside its sock, which was its way of saying goodnight back.

Then came the Carrot Store, where the carrots lay in their crates, orange and crunchy, counted twice. "Four thousand and twelve," read Tinsel from the label. "And one spare." Santa picked up the spare and ate it. "Quality control," he said, crunching. "Goodnight, carrots."

In the stables, the reindeer were asleep in a long row, with their legs folded and their noses tucked in. Their breath made little clouds in the lantern light. Santa went quietly down the row and patted each one on the nose. One of them sighed and smiled in its sleep. "Goodnight, everyone," said Santa.

Last of all they came to the sleigh. It stood in the middle of the big shed, polished so brightly that Tinsel could see the lantern in it twice. Somebody had covered it with a patchwork quilt, so the sleigh would know it was bedtime. On the seat sat the Nice List, checked twice and tied with red ribbon.

"What if I forgot something?" said Tinsel, in a very small voice. Santa sat down on the step of the sleigh and patted the space beside him.

"Let's see," he said. "Bows?" "Tied," said Tinsel. "Bells?" "In their socks." "Carrots?" "Counted. Minus one." "Reindeer?" "Asleep." "And the list?" Tinsel looked at the red ribbon. "Checked twice."

"Then everything is ready," said Santa. "Everything except you. You're not asleep yet." Tinsel thought about the bows and the socks and the carrots and the reindeer and the ribbon. The small, wriggly feeling went quiet, and then it went away altogether, and in its place came a very big yawn.

Santa carried her back to the dormitory in the crook of one arm, with the lantern swinging gently in his other hand. He tucked her in, lined up her slippers, and hung her hat on the hook. "Goodnight, Tinsel," he whispered. She was already asleep.

Then Santa padded home in his old slippers, blew out the lantern, and climbed into his own bed. Outside, the snow came down softly over the workshop and the stables and the sleigh in its quilt. Tomorrow would be the busiest night of the year. But tonight was the quiet one, and the whole North Pole slept.