The Adventures of Nicholas (7 page)

“All right,” said Grinka. “I’ll go and wake them now, before you go.”

“Oh no!” said Nicholas in alarm. “They mustn’t see me. The children must never see me. Now I must go.”

A few moments later Grinka aroused all the children in the camp. They danced around among the beautiful trees, each one discovering something to exclaim about.

“It’s the lights that make everything so beautiful,” said one child.

“Oh no, it’s the gifts!” shouted another.

“It’s the fruit and sweets,” added one hungry youngster, who was stuffing his mouth with goodies.

“I think everything is beautiful because it’s Christmas,” decided one wise boy.

“Yes, yes, because it’s Christmas,” they all shouted, dancing around. “And these are our Christmas trees!”

The light inside the forest grew dimmer and dimmer.

A PRESENT FOR NICHOLAS
 

OLVIG—or Holly, as she was called—was one of those timid little girls who hated to go to bed, not just because it was bedtime, but because she was afraid of the dark. She was a lonely little girl too, because she was also afraid of the other children. Some of the big boys in the village used to tease her by making loud noises behind her back and jumping out at her from dark corners. So most of the time she played by herself or kept busy raising her flowers.

“Flowers!” her father would exclaim in disgust. “We have them in the yard in the summer and then she putters over those flower pots in the house all winter. Why she’s afraid of almost every living thing in the world except flowers. Silliness, I call it.”

“Some day,” her mother would say, “something will happen to make Holly forget her fears. She’s

such a good child, she’d do anything for someone she loved, even if it took the last ounce of her courage.”

Holly loved flowers, and she had wonderful skill in raising them in the harsh northern climate. The little garden around the cottage was lovely all through the short summer. Then, when the first sharp frost of the autumn chilled the air, she would tenderly transplant all the plants which would grow in the house, and gather seeds from the others for spring planting.

Like all the other children of the village, she hung her stocking on the door every Christmas Eve, and every Christmas morning discovered the same lovely gifts and sweets. But unlike the other children, she couldn’t take for granted the warm generosity of Nicholas, the woodcarver. she wanted to show him how thankful she was that someone did not think her odd because she was afraid and shy with other children.

She thought and thought of something to do that would please Nicholas. Finally she decided that she would give him something that gave her more pleasure than anything else in the world: she would share her flowers with him.

So, the little girl picked a small bouquet of bright blossoms from her window boxes, bundled up in her cloak and hood, and started for Nicholas’ cottage. “I’m glad he lives at the edge of the wood,” she thought to herself as she walked down the road through the deep snow. “I don’t think I could ever make myself walk into the woods.” She shivered and walked a little faster, holding the fragile

bouquet close to her warm cheek to protect it from the cold.

“I’d like so much to talk to him,” she said to herself. “I’m sure he doesn’t know me. They say he’s getting so old now that he doesn’t remember all the children and just fills a stocking wherever he sees one. I think I’ll just leave the flowers outside the door, the way he leaves his gifts. That’s what I’ll do,” she decided, and skipped along until she reached the cottage gate.

She crept quietly across the yard and was just about to leave her posies on the doorstep when a loud crash from the stable made her freeze in her tracks. Her heart almost stopped beating, and she was too terrified to move. A huge animal burst through the open stable door and rushed straight for her.

She shut her eyes and thought wildly, “I’m going to die!” A moment that seemed like a year passed, while she waited silently for death. Then, finding that she was still alive, she slowly opened her blue eyes and stared straight into a pair of beautiful soft brown ones.

“Oh, it’s a reindeer,” she gasped, losing some of her fear. But she was still too frightened to move.

Vixen, growing tired of standing still, moved closer and closer until his nose touched the pretty flowers. He opened his mouth and nibbled one. It tasted so good he began to eat another.

Holly angrily snatched her flowers away and began to pound Vixen with her closed fist.

Suddenly she heard a voice behind her say, “Here, here! What are you doing to my Vixen?

You’re frightening him!”

She turned and saw Nicholas standing in the doorway. “I frightened him!” gasped Holly.

“Yes, of course you did,” said Nicholas. “Don’t you know deer are timid creatures and easily frightened?”

“But he was eating your flowers and…do you really mean to say he was frightened of me?”

Nicholas laughed a little impatiently. “Yes. My goodness, child, didn’t you think you could frighten an animal like that?”

“No,” said Holly softly. “I’ve never scared anybody in my life. Somebody’s always frightening me.”

Nicholas looked down at the pale little face. “Come into my workshop and let’s talk a while,” he said quietly. “I think we shall have to get acquainted.”

After Holly had been served a bowl of warm milk, Nicholas asked, “What is your name, my dear?”

“Holvig is my real name, but everyone calls me Holly. I came to bring you flowers, but…but… Vixen ate them.” She looked shyly at Nicholas, and they both burst out laughing at the thought of the naughty little reindeer.

Nicholas wanted to know all about Holly’s garden and her winter plants and her family. As the little girl talked, the kindly woodcarver realized how lonely and fearful she was.

“Well, I think you did a very brave thing to save my bouquet,” he said when she had finished. “But I was really afraid at first,” Holly said truthfully.

“Perhaps you were, Holly. But to do something when you’re really afraid is braver than if you don’t feel any fear at all. Always remember that, my dear.”

“I will, Nicholas,” she promised, “and I’ll bring you some more flowers next week.” As Holly left the cottage, she noticed Vixen poking his head at her from behind a tree. Her heart skipped a little, but she straightened her shoulders and walked over to the reindeer. “Boo!” said Holly to Vixen. Vixen turned and ran.

HOLLY GETS ITS NAME
 

OLLY often brought a bouquet of her flowers to Nicholas, and she and the woodcarver soon became very good friends. Nicholas would sit at his bench working on his little toys, and Holly would sit on a stool at his feet and talk and talk. She discovered that talking about her fears here in this cozy room somehow made them seem less frightening.

One time he asked, “Are you afraid of rabbits, Holly?”

“Oh no!” she laughed. “That’s one thing I know that’s afraid of me. Why, rabbits even run at my shadow!”

“True, they are fearful little creatures,” said Nicholas. “Did you ever see where rabbits live, Holly?”

“Yes, they go down into little holes in the ground, don’t they?”

“Mmmmm,” answered Nicholas, busily carving. “They must be terribly dark, those little holes. Yet those little timid animals go down there to bed every night and probably don’t think anything about it.”

Holly frowned. “I see what you mean, Nicholas. If my room were really as dark as a rabbit’s hole, maybe I wouldn’t mind. But it’s only half dark, and the chairs and table and things look so different in the moonlight. I…I sometimes think they are goblins.”

“You little silly,” said Nicholas tenderly. “Now you listen to me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Holly nodded and climbed up on his knee.

“Well, I’m going to tell you something. There aren’t any goblins, and there aren’t any terrible creatures who run around trying to harm little children. If you’re a good girl and do what your mother tells you, and say your prayers before you go to bed every night, nothing can harm you. Do you hear me? Nothing.”

Holly looked very much impressed. “It will be hard at first,” she said after a moment. “But if I think I see a goblin in my room, I’ll just say, ‘Nicholas says you really aren’t there!’”

They both laughed, and Nicholas told her it was time to run home to her supper.

Spring arrived, but just when it was time for planting, Holly became ill with fever. All through the short summer weeks she lay on her bed, not recognizing anyone, not even her beloved Nicholas.

He took flowers to her, hoping they might bring back her wandering little mind, but she only pushed them away. In her illness, Holly screamed about big black giants and horrible goblins, and Nicholas sadly realized that all their friendly little talks had been completely wiped from her mind.

Many months later, Holly recovered. The fever had left her the same timid little girl she had been when she first brought a bouquet to Nicholas. Now she sat at the window during the day and stared out at the bare, cold little yard. It was winter again, but this year there were no flowers.

Holly was lonelier than she had ever been during her entire life. For long months to come she would have nothing to bring to Nicholas. She pressed her thin little face against the windowpane and looked with tear-filled eyes out into the bleak front yard.

Two boys were passing the gate and stopped to wave kindly at her. Holly waved back and wiped her eyes. She pushed open the window and called out, “What’s that green stuff you have under your arm, Peter?”

The boys came over to the window. Peter held up an armful of lovely red berries scattered among shiny, pointed green leaves.

“We got it in the woods…way back in the part they call the Black Forest. It grows like this all through the winter,” Peter told her. “I don’t know what the name of it is.”

“Here,” said Eric, “you can have a little branch of mine if you want. I’d give it all to you,” he added shyly, “except I don’t think we’ll be going back there, do you, Peter?”

“I wouldn’t go back there alone, I can tell you. If you got lost there, I guess you’d stay lost.”