A Visit From The Maldives

Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the beach, not a creature was stirring, not even a Canadian.

The Charlie brown Christmas trees were all up with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The people were all nestled snug in their tanning beds, while visions of sugar-rimmed shots danced in their heads.

When out on the sand there rose such a clatter, I sprang from my tanning bed to see what was the matter. Away to the water I flew like a flash, tore open my bag and took my camera off flash. The sun on the breast of the new fallen sand, gave lustre to objects so much I could barely stand. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Santa Clause. And more than eight tiny dolphins.

He was dressed all in fur, which I thought must be unbearably hot with the temperature outside. His cheeks were like roses and his nose like a cherry. He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, posing for all tourist pictures, then turned with a jerk. He walked down the beach, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all went, like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as he walked out of sight, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

And Happy New Year!!

Bailey Sue