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Maurice was excited; he knew what to do!
He’d longed for this chance to prove all he was worth,
But Santa ignored him, to everyone’s mirth.
Maurice had fine antlers and four solid hoofs,
Immune to the flu, he could climb all the roofs.
Yet the sleigh was hitched up to Canadian geese,
And Dumbo, and Rocky — everyone but Maurice.
Prancer and pals made Maurice feel ashamed
When he thought he could play in their Reindeer Games.
And Rudolph, well he was the worst of the pack,
Telling Maurice to go home and never come back.
But the Clauses had always been nice, so he thought.
Oh, this turn of events had Maurice quite distraught.
He did not understand, the poor little guy,
So he hid in a snow bank and had a good cry.
Mrs. Claus found him there, fed him cookies and milk.
“You simply must find some friends of your ilk.
Now I’ll tell you once more, so you’ll stop asking why–
You are a moose, and moose cannot fly.”
Maurice then realized what she said was quite true
But flying was all that he wanted to do.
He bemoaned his bad luck for the way he was born
And he dreaded to wake on that holiday morn.
But the crisp, white day dawned despite all of his dread
And he woke to ten moose crowding onto his bed.
“We missed you!” they cried.
“Where on earth have you been?
Moose Games were no fun without you to help win.”
“So you left us behind to go join the reindeer…
You’re forgiven. It’s Christmas.
We’re glad you’re now here.”
Maurice felt his soul shining bright without doubt,
And he smiled at the way that this day had turned out.
He knew now that he had judged Rudolph all wrong;
That red-nosed reindeer meant
Home is where we Belong.
His heart lifted up, and he looked to the sky.
Then Maurice finally knew what it felt like to fly.
This story originated with the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge.
When I wish you Merry Christmas
I’m remembering all the love
That I’ve been blessed with through the years—
from here on earth or up above.
I wish you joy and hope and peace
and all that swells your soul
And that you’ll recognize your blessings, too
and feel you’ve been made whole.
I wish you Merry Christmas
from the memories of my youth;
I hope you will be heartened
by a special memory, too.
I wish you silent moments
like a walk through falling snow
Or light that bathes your whole hometown
and warms you in its glow.
I wish your spirit to find purpose,
and if purpose has been found,
Then I hope you’ll find a voice
that spreads your gifts to all around.
May your focus always land
on what brings cheer into your heart
And look past the petty other things
that dampen your true spark.
I hope you’ll find a home
where you forever will belong
Where any broken places in you
will be healed and come back strong.
But if your strength has all been drained this year
or nothing feels like home
I wish renewal through your winter.
Please know you’re not alone.
I pray that you’ll believe
in something greater than this life
And feel the peace of knowing
there is solace past the strife.
I wish your soul much deeper
than just happy holidays
So when I wish you Merry Christmas
this is all I mean to say.
© Krista Tibbs
Author of The Neurology of Angels