The Old Man and the Mouse

Deep in the snow-shrouded forest, the old man stood at the door to his lonely home in the wilderness, under the gaze of the ever watchful, ever moving birds and animals in the moonlit night. Exhausted and cold, he cleared snow from the threshold and wearily made his way inside before slumping into a chair next to the fireplace. But he was too tired to make a fire, for every muscle, every bone in his body ached and he longed for sleep, which he knew would not come for a while yet.

'I'm getting too old for this', he grimly whispered to himself. 'Perhaps it's time that I….”

His gloomy reverie was interrupted by a squeaking sound. He looked to his left, and then to his right, but saw nothing.

'Hearing things as well now. Oh dear, perhaps I'm in a dream, or have I started talking to myself?'

Musing on the occupational risks of his physically demanding life, the old man shut his eyes, willing sleep to take him. There was another squeak, followed by a faint snuffling, scratching sound. After awkwardly getting to his feet and looking around, the old man saw the source of the strange noises. There in the far corner, bold as brass, was a tiny mouse, his long nose sniffing the air around him. The old man and the mouse regarded each other with much interest.

'So, I have a visitor?' said the old man to the mouse, who offered no reply.

'Would you like a little present?' asked the old man, peering over his half-moon spectacles at his uninvited guest. 'Of course you do, you're hungry after all, just like me.'

The old man rifled through the pockets of his jacket and took out a small bag, from which he produced a lump of cheese. He broke off a tiny piece of the cheese and rolled it into a marble-sized sphere between his thumb and forefinger.

'From one lonely traveller to another, a present', said the old man, as he bent down and rolled the marble of cheese along the floor towards the mouse. The mouse squeaked more loudly this time, as if in delighted thanks, and used his long nose to roll, in his eyes, the huge ball of cheese towards a tiny hole in the wall and the ravenous mouse family inside. When he finally reached his home and nose-rolled the cheese through the hole, the mouse turned back to the old man and squeaked goodnight. The old man watched the mouse disappear into the hole in the wall and sighed.

'Happy Christmas!' he whispered, with tears in his eyes. Alone again, he suddenly felt very old indeed, and once more sat in the chair. He shut his eyes, intending to take just a few moments of rest before making a fire to keep out the cold, but instead fell into a deep sleep, and dreams of mice and cheesemaking, of icy-leaved trees and long, snow-covered roads through the nighttime forest.

Much later, the old man woke and looked around him in surprise, for he was no longer in darkness. Bright winter morning sunlight shone through the windows into his sitting room and a roaring log fire had warmed him, drying the melted snow from his trousers, jacket and hat. His boots had been pulled off his feet and left to dry on the hearth next to the fire. He saw that his wife had been very busy, as the Christmas tree had been decorated with tinsel and the breakfast table laid, for which he was thankful. His groaning stomach told him that he was now very hungry indeed after what had been a long night’s work.

Two huge pink tongues were lapping at the melting ice on the window and there was a knock on the front door. The old man stiffly got to his feet, wincing at his strained muscles and aching back. When he opened the door, he was greeted by a dozen little men dressed all in green, wearing pointy hats and delighted smiles.

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!” cried the little men in unison. “We’ve fed and watered the reindeer, even Donner and Blitzen here, the greedy so-and-so’s, and today we’re all going to start making some toys for next year.”

“Merry Christmas!” replied a smiling Father Christmas, happily basking in the glorious snow-white newness of the morning, for he knew, come what may, that there would always be a next year.

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