Christmas story: a little bird in Santa's beard

3 min read · For: Ages 6–9

It was a cold, bright morning at the North Pole. Santa sat on the bench outside his house with a cup of tea, enjoying the sunshine on his face.

He closed his eyes. He sighed a happy sigh. And he did not notice the tiny brown bird hopping along the fence.

The bird was cold. Its feathers were puffed up like a little ball. It looked around for somewhere warm.

And then it saw it. Something big and white and fluffy. Something that looked like the softest, warmest nest in the whole world.

Santa's beard.

A new nest

Flutter, flutter. The little bird flew up and landed right in the middle of Santa's beard. It wriggled. It turned around twice. It snuggled down deep.

Santa opened one eye. Then the other. He looked down, as far as he could, past his nose.

Two tiny black eyes looked back up at him.

"Oh," whispered Santa. "Good morning."

"Cheep," said the bird. Then it tucked its head under its wing and went to sleep.

Don't move

Pip the elf came out of the workshop with a long list.

"Santa," he called, "we need you in the..."

"Shh!" whispered Santa. He pointed at his beard with one finger, very slowly.

Pip tiptoed closer. When he saw the little bird, his eyes went wide.

"It's asleep," whispered Santa. "I can't move. If I move, it will wake up. And it's so cold."

"But the workshop," whispered Pip. "And the reindeer. And the letters."

"Bring them here," whispered Santa. "Quietly."

Very quiet work

So for the rest of the morning, the North Pole came to Santa.

The elves brought the letters, and Pip held them up one by one so Santa could read them without moving his head.

The elves brought the toys to check, and Santa nodded at them very, very slightly. A tiny nod meant "lovely". An even tinier nod meant "lovely, but needs a bit more paint".

The reindeer came over from the stable, one at a time, so Santa could whisper good morning to them.

Then Santa's nose started to itch.

"Pip," he whispered urgently. "My nose is tickling."

Pip climbed onto the bench and gave Santa's nose a gentle scratch with the tip of a feather. "Better?"

"Much better," whispered Santa.

Time to go

At lunchtime, the sun was high and the air was a little warmer. The little bird woke up. It stretched one wing. Then the other. It shook its feathers.

"Cheep," it said.

It hopped up onto Santa's nose. It looked him right in the eye. Then it flew away over the snowy fence, chirping happily.

Santa stretched his arms high into the air. "Ohhh," he groaned, "I feel as stiff as a gingerbread man."

"That was very kind," said Pip.

Santa smiled. "Everyone needs a warm place sometimes," he said.

From that day on, every morning, Santa put a little dish of seeds on the fence, and a scarf folded into a soft nest on the bench beside him. Just in case.