Fairy Tail's Once Upon a Christmas

The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, most creatures were not stirring. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. But the child of the house was not nestled snug in her bed nor having visions of sugar plums dance in her head. She was sitting by the window and watching the winter night, her being filled with apprehension and a little fright.

Later when she felt her throat become dry, she started to think:

"Maybe I'll go get a small drink."

She moved through the house with the stealth and silence of a church mouse. Going into the kitchen she started to pour her milk but dropped the cup and made a noise that woke everyone up.
When her mother and father heard the clatter, they sprang from their bed to see what was the matter.

"Wendy?" Said her mother with confusion. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"You almost gave us a heart attack." Said her father. "We thought someone had broken in."

"I couldn't sleep." The girl replied. "I thought a drink of milk might help."

Her parents both fought the urge to chuckle then the father went to check the door buckle while the mother cleaned the mess and see to her daughter's distress.

"Drink your milk and go on back to sleep." She said handing Wendy her drink. "Santa won't come if you're awake."

"Yeah...Santa." She said feeling quite melancholy.

"What is that attitude for? Aren't you excited about Christmas?"

"Yes but..." She paused before speaking again. "It's just that...Mom do you think that maybe...I might be a little too old for Christmas."

"Too old for Christmas?" The young mother was completely flabbergasted by such a statement. "Why I've never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my life. Too old for Christmas? Too old for music and laughter and love and magic-"

"There's no such thing as magic."

"Who told you that nonsense?"

"My friend Chelia. When I asked her to go sledding with me today she said that Christmas was for little kids. That there was no Santa Clause, no magic, and nothing really special about Christmas. That Christmas only exists for people to make money."

"Oh I see."

Wendy's mother wasn't surprised that her daughter's friend had said that to her. Unlike Wendy's parents, Chelia's were always busy at work even on the holidays and would only give her expensive presents rather than spend time with her. Though usually Chelia's loneliness would be eased by her parents leaving her to spend Christmas with her cousin who would give her the love and attention she deserved. But this year her cousin had gotten married and on their way back from the honeymoon, they got caught in a snow storm that led to a car accident and the young couple having to stay in the hospital for critical treatment. The doctor's couldn't say if they would recover in time for Christmas.

Chelia was utterly heartbroken and it caused her to act especially naughty this month. Her grades were slipping, she misbehaved in class, even her friendship with Wendy had become strained. Strained to the point where she almost resented Wendy for having a loving family to spend Christmas with while she had none.

"Oh Wendy." Her mother sat next to her in bed. "Chelia doesn't know what she's talking about. She's just angry about what's happened with her cousin."

"But what if she's right?"

"She's not right. There is so much more to Christmas than just buying and giving gifts. There's a special magic to Christmas that nothing in the world can match. Christmas is a time where selflessness and love can accomplish the most amazing things. Where miracles can happen."

"How do you know?"

"I know because I happen to know a few stories about Christmas miracles. Stories where the Christmas magic has been seen first hand."

"No offense Mom but a made up story won't make me feel better."

"Who said that my stories are made up? They're all true."

"Really Mom?" Wendy asked with a skeptical eye brow raise.

"Yes really. Now before I start let's get you tucked in again."

Wendy laid down in bed and her mother pulled the sheets and coverlet over her, situating her to where she would be perfectly warm and comfy.

"Mom this isn't going to be like that ragman story Dad told me when I was six? Because I know that story is made up. I don't believe in the ragman."

The woman giggled. Ever since her daughter was five her husband had always used the story of the Ragman to get her to go to sleep.

The story was that the ragman moved with the night while carrying a big sack and he would slip into the houses of families to see if the children were asleep in bed like they were told to. Good children who listened to their parents and went to sleep were safe but if the ragman caught naughty children staying up late then he would turn them into mice, put them in his bag, and took them away. It worked til she was about eight but he still acted like it was true.

"No it's not like that." She assured her. "And unlike your father I have proof that my stories are real."

"What kind of proof?"

"Wait right here."

She left the bedroom for a brief moment then returned with a bright green and red box. She placed the box on the bed and opened it up so Wendy could see the contents inside. It consisted of three items. An oriental comb, a nutcracker, and a ribbon.

"The stories I'm about to tell you are real and I happen to know the people who were in them. In fact they were my close friends from when I was young. On the first Christmas we all spent together they told me the stories themselves and they each gave me a little momentum of their magical event so that I would never loose faith in Christmas or forget it's true meaning."

Wendy picked up each item and examined them carefully.

"What do these have to do with magic? They look pretty ordinary to me."

"Well it's not the items themselves that are magic. It's the stories that they tell. Take this one for example."

She held up the oriental comb first.

"You can tell that this is a very special comb right?"

"Yes." Wendy answered.

"But do you know what makes it so special?"

"Sure. It's beautiful. There's gold and diamonds and-"

"Nope." The mother said shaking her head. "No that's not what makes it special at all."

"Well what else could make it special?"

"How about the amount of thought and love that went into purchasing it? What if I told you that there was someone so desperate to get it for the person they loved most that they gave up their most precious possession in order to do so?"

"How did that happen?" Wendy asked intrigued.

"Well it all started some years ago, about two days before Christmas. A young lady and gentleman had become engaged to marry. But the gentleman worked as a miner and didn't make a lot of money so the lady's father didn't approve of him. Despite that she still accepted his proposal but it made her father so angry that he cut her off. Making her just as poor as her fiancé. Now that didn't matter to her or him but with Christmas coming up..."

Now begins our first story. One which not only proves that there is a magic to Christmas but that in matters of true love, no sacrifice is too hard to make.