Happy Christmas to All and to All a Good Night

It’s Christmas Eve. I hope you are cosy, waiting for Father Christmas to come in the morning. In the meantime, get yourself a glass of something and I will tell you a Christmas Eve tale.

We are going back in time. Back twenty-one years ago to the Christmas of 2004 on the West Coast of Ireland. Kit and I had spent the year building a house. It was to be the first house we had owned together. As the roof went on, and the finishing touches were made we had one dream ~ to be home for Christmas in our new place.

On December 23rd we watched the tradesmen rush around, trying to get everything ready. But the kitchen worktops and cupboards had not yet arrived. Finally on the morning of Christmas Eve the kitchen units were delivered. The carpenter, Sean, who was going to instal these was from the nearby village. He rang to see if they had arrived. ‘Yes’ we said. ‘But we couldn’t possibly ask you to do it today.’

‘I really don’t mind,’ he replied. ‘I’ll be on site in ten minutes.’

During frequent visits from our rented house nearby, we watched excitedly as the kitchen took shape. We kept Sean supplied with plenty of tea and sandwiches. He assured us he would be finished before the end of the day.

There was nothing more to do now, except begin to move in. We had decided to achieve this without a removal van as the journey was only a mile. We were younger then, and it was no problem to load up our big Jeep and drive to the new house over and over again, unloading each time into a spare room.

Not long after darkness fell, the kitchen was finished and we thanked Sean profusely. He went home to his family with a special bottle of whiskey to thank him for his wonderful work. It was time to collect our last load, drive the final mile and begin our new life.

As we pulled away from the old house, big fat flakes of snow began falling. It was like a dream come true. We really were driving home for Christmas.

We stood at the doorway and both put our hands on the key to open the door in the falling snow. Alistair and Denver, our two dogs raced around the empty rooms. Neil the cat hid behind the new sofa, where he felt safe.

I had put a few vital things in a handy box and now it was time to open it. We popped the champagne and toasted to our new life in this home that was just for us.

That night we slept lightly, despite being tired from all lifting and carrying. The house was in the countryside and it really was a silent night as the snow continued to fall. There was no wind at all. Just a million softly falling flakes.

And then I heard a chilling sound. Very heavy footsteps crunching on the snow, getting nearer and nearer.

‘There’s someone outside!’ I whispered to Kit. We had hung a blanket from a pole in the window as the blinds had not yet been fitted. We stood trembling – listening as the very heavy steps stopped right outside our bedroom window. Carefully I pulled the blanket aside an inch.

A white horse stood looking in with the large snowflakes falling all around him.

It was an absolutely beautiful scene. I felt this was a good omen that life in our new home would be happy. And it has been. This is a true story. Happy Christmas from my home to yours.