Harry and Rosie Trick Santa - All Stories

by Angharad Lynn

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It was a few days before Christmas. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Harry and Rosie lay on the living room floor watching TV. I want that for Christmas, said Rosie as a Baby Cry-Cry appeared on the screen. And that, she added as a Magical Musical Mobile appeared. Then an advert came on for a dancing teddy bear. Want that too, said Rosie.

You have to write a list for Santa said Harry. Otherwise he will not know what you want

But I cannot write, said Rosie, who was only three and a half.

Suddenly she had an idea. You write, Harry she said.

Harry groaned. Although he could write, it took him a really long time. He had only just finished his own letter to Santa. I cannot said Harry. It will take too long, ask mum to do it.

- Mum, said Rosie wailing as she made her way to the kitchen. Harry will not write my Christmas list.

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This Christmas Story about has been written specially for Storynory by Angharad Lynn. Santa has been around for a few years, but he never goes out of fashion . Even the most modern children want to catch a glimpse of him...

Read by Natasha Lee-Lewis. Duration 12 minutes.

It was a few days before Christmas. Mum was in the kitchen preparing dinner. Harry and Rosie lay on the living room floor watching TV. “I want that for Christmas,” said Rosie as a Baby Cry-Cry appeared on the screen. “And that,” she added as a Magical Musical Mobile appeared. Then an advert came on for a dancing teddy bear. “Want that too,” said Rosie.

“You have to write a list for Santa,” said Harry. “Otherwise he won’t know what you want.”

“But I can’t write,” said Rosie, who was only three and a half.

Suddenly she had an idea. “You write, Harry,” she said.

Harry groaned. Although he could write, it took him a really long time. He had only just finished his own letter to Santa. “I can’t,” said Harry. “It will take too long, ask mum to do it.”

“Mum,” said Rosie wailing as she made her way to the kitchen. “Harry won’t write my Christmas list.”

Mum helped Rosie write her Christmas list. When they had finished they put the list up the chimney behind the fire place in the living room. “But how will Santa get my letter?” asked Rosie.

“Doh,” said Harry, who had turned off the TV and was waiting for something to eat. “He sends Rudolf or one of the elves to pick it up.”

“But why doesn’t he come himself?” asked Rosie. “I want to meet him.”

“You can’t meet him,” said Harry.

“Why not?” asked Rosie.

“Because he doesn’t want children to see him,” said Harry.

“But I want to see Santa,” said Rosie wailing. “I really, really want to see him.”

Rosie really really really wanted to see Santa. She talked about it all the time. In the end Mum promised to take her to a department store to see him.

So one morning they set off for the shops nice and early but even though they were early there were still lots of people queuing to see Santa.

“I’m afraid the wait will be two hours,” said a kind looking lady in a smart store uniform.

“Oh no,” said Harry. “We can’t wait two whole hours.”

“But I want to see Santa,” said Rosie.

“It is a long time to wait,” said Mum. “We could just go to the toy department or the café for a cake instead.”

“Yes,” said Harry.

“No,” said Rosie. “I want to wait.”

So they waited and waited and Harry felt tired and hungry and thirsty and bored but Rosie said she would be really sad if they didn’t get to meet Santa.

Suddenly Harry had an idea. He whispered in Rosie’s ear so that Mum wouldn’t hear him

“I know,” he said. “We could trick Santa.” He told Rosie his plan and she thought it was a very good one.
Rosie tugged at Mum’s sleeve. “Actually,” she said. “I don’t mind if I don’t meet Santa. I’d rather have a cake.”

So the children and their mother had cake and drinks and then they went to look at the toys. But they didn’t buy anything because it was so close to Christmas and they would have so much to open on the day.

It was the evening of Christmas eve and Harry and Rosie were laying out a plate of mince pies for Santa. Harry fetched a plate from the cupboard and Rosie carefully placed some mince pies on the plate. Then Harry fetched a carrot from the fridge and put it next to the mince pies.

“Shall we leave out a glass of milk too?” asked Rosie, who always liked a glass of milk herself before she went to bed.

“Yes ok,” said Harry, opening the fridge and getting out the carton.

Harry and Rosie laid out the snacks and then they went upstairs to get everything ready for the trick they were to play on Santa.

Rosie fetched the torch from Daddy’s tool box so that she would be able to see in the dark, Harry fetched Rosie’s skipping rope and put it und the bedclothes.

Harry and Rosie each had their own room but, because it was Christmas Mum and Dad said they could sleep in the same room so Dad had put up the camp bed in Rosie’s room for Harry to sleep on.

Harry and Rosie went downstairs to say goodnight to their parents.

“Can we go to bed now?” asked Rosie.

Mum looked very surprised. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask to go to bed before Rosie,” she said.

“I suppose you really, really want your Christmas presents, don’t you?” said Dad, looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

Dad took the children up to bed. They laid out their stockings at the end of the bed. “Shall I read you a story?” asked Dad walking over to the bookcase.

“Actually, Dad do you mind if we don’t have one tonight?” asked Harry. “It’s just we are waiting for Father Christmas.”

“Oh all right,” said Dad, “Now be good and go to sleep. I don’t want to hear you both talking all night.”

When Dad had gone Rosie switched on the torch. She had to be sure not to fall asleep. Otherwise the plan would not work.

The door began to creak. Rosie sat up with a start, she must have been beginning to doze off. But when she switched on her torch she saw it was just Harry going to the loo, not Santa after all.

Rosie lay back down in bed and waited some more. She heard the door begin to open.

“Harry,” she hissed to her brother. He was waiting with the lasso he had made from Rosie’s skipping rope, ready to throw it round Santa so that he could not leave without speaking to them.

The door opened and…mum walked in.

“Hello children, I’ve just come to give you a kiss goodnight,” she said. “Harry what are you doing with Rosie’s skipping rope? It is time to go to sleep.”

After mum had gone Harry and Rosie sat up talking a little longer. Would Santa never come?

Harry opened his eyes. It was still dark outside but the stocking at the end of his bed, which was more of a sack than a stocking really, was bulging. “Rosie,” said Harry shaking his sister. “Rosie, he’s been. We missed Santa.”

Rosie sat up and began rubbing her eyes.

“Oh but I really wanted to meet him,” she said.

Harry got out of bed and switched on the light. “Shall we open them?” he asked, looking at the presents.
Instead of answering Rosie dug her hand into her sack and pulled out a package. She ripped off the paper.

“Oh,” she said. “I don’t want that.”

Harry looked at the football annual Rosie had disgarded. He would have liked that himself.

Oh well. He had his own presents to open.

He ripped off the paper of the first one. A baby cry-cry. No way. “I don’t want this,” said Harry.

Rosie by now had opened her second present – a toy airplane.

Harry’s second present was even worse than the first, a pink dress.

The more presents they opened, the more disappointed the children became.

“Oh well, at least I can eat these,” said Harry pulling out a packet of sweets, as he sat among a dancing teddy bear, a packet of hair clips and a book about fairies.

Mum and Dad came into the room.

“Oh you’re up already,” said Mum. “How are your presents?”

“Awful,” said Harry.

“Horrid,” said Rosie.

“What do you mean?” asked Dad.

Dad looked down at Harry’s pile, and then across at Rosie’s.

“Do you think you may have got the wrong stocking?” said Dad.

Suddenly everything made sense.

Harry leapt with joy onto the Thunderbirds characters, the remote control boat and the football boots. Rosie kissed baby cry-cry.

“You know what Rosie?” said Harry. “we were trying to trick Santa, but in the end I think it was him who tricked us.”