Monday, 16 December 2013

The Day We Found the Magic Letterbox

I was with Frazzle, Daphne, Zola, Masher and Mr Patou in Masher’s shed making Christmas cards. We were talking about the things we would love Santa to bring us for Christmas. Frazzle said a bright blue coat with a number three on it would be the best present ever. If the number three happened to glow in the dark, then that would make it even more wooftastic. Daphne said she’d love a new chef’s hat. Her old one had gone a bit droopy and you can’t make up tasty, new recipes in a droopy hat. A new paintbrush was Masher’s choice and I would really, really, reeeeally love a new ball. Small, colourful and hopefully with a loud squeak. Zola said she couldn’t think of anything she needed. We suggested things like a new set of binoculars to play I-Spy from the balcony of the flat where she lives, but she said all she really wanted was for her owner, Doris, to be happy and well. Zola was sad that Doris was getting old and finding it hard to climb the stairs to their flat.
“I think I’ll ask Santa for a lift for our block of flats,” said Zola.
“But how will he know what we’d like?” asked Frazzle.
“Maybe we could write to him,” I said.
Masher handed out some paper and pencils and we all settled down to write our letters. I decided to copy Zola and asked Santa to keep my family well and happy but I added a bit at the bottom to let him know that if we were allowed two wishes I’d rather like a squeaky ball as well. “What are you asking Santa for, Mr Patou?” I asked.
“A notebook so I can write down my new jokes,” he replied.
“What’s your new joke?” asked Frazzle.
“What is black and white and noisy?” Mr Patou giggled as he asked the question. “A zebra with a drum kit!”
We sealed the envelopes and then addressed them to Mr S Claus, North Pole, The World.
“It’s all very well having a letter but where shall we post them?” I asked.
“A letterbox, silly,” said Daphne.
“You can’t just use an ordinary letterbox,” said Zola, worried her wish would not be received. “These are magic letters. They have to go in a magic letterbox.”
“Then it’s a good job there’s one right here in Victoria Park,” said Mr Patou.
“Really?!” said Zola, a big smile spreading over her face.
“Where?!” asked Masher excitedly. “I’ve never seen it!”
“Show us Mr Patou!” I said.
We picked up our letters and followed Mr Patou out of the door. He led us to a corner of the park near the gate just by the canal.
“Where are we going?” asked Frazzle.
“Wait and see,” said Mr Patou.
He stopped next to an enormous tree. At the bottom of the trunk was a tiny box with a hole in the front big enough for letters. If you weren’t looking for it you might never see it. It didn’t look very magical, but, as we posted our letters into the box, it made a shimmery, tingly sound and a puff of glittery white dust came out of the hole.
“How will we know Santa receives them?” I asked.
Mr Patou said: “You’ll have to wait until Christmas Day. Then you’ll know.”

I’ll let you know what happens in my next blog. In the meantime, I hope you all have a very happy Christmas wherever you are!

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