The Fiery - Red Christmas Bauble

A fairy tale in the pen of Hans Christian Andersen. Have fun and Merry Christmas.

Once upon a time there was a most beautiful fiery-red Christmas bauble. It was larger than both of little Eloise’s hands put together. The  crimson red belly was covered in snow-white paintings that showed a whole sleigh and reindeer and a Father Christmas sitting on top of the sleigh. 

Three days before Christmas, Eloise heard the jingle jangle of the sleigh approaching the front door. She  pushed her little stool to the window and climbed on top of it. When standing on tiptoe she could look out of the window and see the large snowflakes drifting down, like feathers from the sky. The sled’s runners sent the fresh snow left and right, and the towering black beasts steamed and snorted in their harnesses. Eloise was still a little bit scared of Father’s new horses. But she was also bursting with curiosity and so she summoned all her courage and jumped off the stool to join Mother who was greeting Father at the door. 

“Huii!” The north wind blew and covered Eloise with white crystals. She squealed with pleasure and couldn’t stop hopping up and down at her mother's hand. Father laughed and entered the house with both of his arms full of parcels. He took off the warm pelt which he only wore on his long journeys and took Mother in his arms, kissing her right in front of the servants. 

Eloise was still bouncing up and down, but one stern look from Mother and she was the perfect little lady again. “Can I open them?” she squealed. 

“You know we can’t open the parcels until Christmas Day,” said Mother. 

“Well, maybe just one,” Father smiled. Right from the middle of the whole stack of parcels he carefully took a little white box with a golden ribbon. “Why don’t you two go on and open it together?” 

Eloise took a deep breath and relished the fresh scent of fir needles that came from the mighty Christmas tree in the parlour. All those colourful baubles, glittering on the dark green tree. They are as light as the snowflakes, thought Eloise. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Mother was terrified that anyone might tip over all the splendour by accident and that’s why the boys were strictly forbidden from entering the parlour until Christmas. 

Boys are always so rude, Eloise sighed. And then they ruin everything. Calm and graceful like a proper lady, she went to the little table and placed the white box on the silver lace doily. 

Mother removed the golden bow and opened the white box. “A fiery-red Christmas bauble - like fire!” Eloise clapped her hands. The child’s christal clear laughter vibrated across the surface of the Christmas bauble. The first rays of sunshine glittered over the crimson coat and the white Father Christmas shone like freshly fallen snow. “A fiery-red Christmas bauble, that’s me,” it thought. Mother helped Eloise to hang the bauble in the best place on the Christmas tree. Right in the middle between the little angle and the old green bauble. The mighty fir tree stretched its branches and lost a two-dozen needles. Everything was just perfect.

But not everyone was happy. All the other baubles were distraught as they thought themselves to be so much more worthy of filling that very spot in the middle of the tree. The Victorian bauble, with its noble ivory robe and antique gold pattern, felt repulsed by the vulgar show that the red bauble was putting on display. The little silver angel was actually frightened by the large, shiny red bauble and even the Star of Betlehem at the very top had nothing but a slight nod for the intruder. Only the little fairy was happily jumping up and down on her hook. 

This did not worry the fiery-red Christmas bauble. All it wished for was to shine deep red on Christmas Eve in the light of the Christmas candles. Most importantly, for little Eloise, it wanted to be the sweetest bauble of all. Gently it touched the branches of the mighty fir tree as if to say: Hello there, I’m here. Do you want to be friends with me? But all the other baubles couldn’t even look at the beautiful red bauble and turned their dull side towards it out of shame and jealousy. 

“What an insolent show-off,” said the Victorian bauble and polished its golden pattern. 

“Surely not of good breeding,” nodded the Star of Bethlehem. 

“Do you think that fiery-red armour could send the tree aflame?” whispered the little angel. 

“Poor thing, frightened out of her wits,” said the Victorian bauble, who considered herself the leading lady on the tree. 

“I was that shiny and perfect, once.” said an ancient and battered green bauble. “Are we getting old?” 

“Nonsense,” said a big-bellied royal blue bauble. “It’s just that blasted red bauble. I’m afraid it is up to no good. I’ve seen it before. Those red baubles are always a problem.” 

“What can we do?” asked the angel in a barely audible whisper. 

“Leave it to me, darling,” said the Victorian bauble. 

Poor fiery-red bauble. All it wanted was to make friends. All it wished for was a perfect Christmas for everyone. How could it possibly understand why everyone else gave it the cold shoulder?

Early on Christmas Eve morning, the baubles started to whisper and giggle. Had they made a plan? Unfortunately they had, and after the royal blue big-bellied bauble counted: “One, two, three!” all the baubles started to shake on their branches and hop as hard as they could. Hop, hop, hop and up and down and up and down they went. And the mighty fir lost a three-dozen needles and began to sway. It was a sheer miracle that the fiery-red bauble was not taken by surprise, sailing from the tree and smashing on the ground. But it was so light that all the shaking and hopping could not do it any harm. 

Right then the unthinkable happened: the mighty fir couldn’t stop swaying and the baubles couldn’t stop hopping. Up and down, up and down. They flew around, like snowflakes in a storm, clinging onto their hooks for dear life. Only the little fairy began to slide down from her branch, hop by hop by hop. 

You see, when the maid was attaching the Christmas baubles to the Christmas tree, the doorbell rang and it was the handsome young postman at the door to deliver some parcels. The maid simply stuck the fairy on the branch and forgot to secure her hook. Poor fairy. One more hop and she flew from her branch, high, high up - and down she came, crashing into tiny little pieces on the hardwood floor. 

The mighty fir tree froze in shock and lost a six-dozend needles. The baubles tried to catch their breath and secure their hooks even tighter - just in case. “That is entirely your fault!” screamed the Victorian bauble, who had completely lost her countenance. “If it wasn’t for you and your savage red armour, the poor little fairy would still be alive.” All the other baubles nodded in unison. Only the Star of Bethlehem did not move. 

The red bauble was distraught and wished itself far, far away. “This should have been our most beautiful Christmas,” it cried. And it cried so hard that the most unbelievable thing happened. Three little holes grew in the fiery-red bauble. 

“What have we done?” said the battered green bauble. “We were so envious that we destroyed everything. And now the pretty red bauble is melting.” 

The sun was setting outside the window. Mother lit all the candles on the tree and the baubles began to glow in the warm light of Christmas. The children came, wearing their finest suits and their best shoes. And their eyes shone in the Christmas light. And after they had sung ‘Silent night, holy night ...’  they stood around the Christmas tree and looked at all the wonderful baubles. And from the very top, the Star of Bethlehem nodded with decorum. 

“Look, Mother,” little Eloise whispered. “I can see right through that fiery-red bauble. Oh, the Father Christmas is soo pretty.” 

Mother smiled at her little girl. “That one's for you, my darling. Go on. Take it off and give it a taste.” Eloise was confused, but not as confused as all the other baubles on the tree. With trembling fingers she took off the red bauble and … it tasted sweet! The fiery-red Christmas bauble wasn’t a bauble at all but a bright red sugar bubble. 

How delighted was the red bubble. Now it was officially the sweetest bauble of them all. The bubble giggled and sighed while Eloise’s little tongue licked away the father Christmas and the sleigh and all the reindeer, until there was nothing left. 

And all the baubles were delighted that they had made the acquaintance of the fiery red sugar bubble. Only the little  broken fairy wasn’t happy. The maid quickly swept up the tiny, glittering pieces and threw them into the open fire.  And while little Eloise was singing: ‘Oh Christmas Tree…’,  with her family, the little fairy melted into a shiny little glass bead. 

Author's Note

All comments welcome, as long as they are kind and true.