A Boy Called Christmas

by Matt Haig

‘Trouble doesn’t always have to be caused. It’s sometimes already there.’

In a world like that it’s very easy to be bad. So when someone is good, or kind, it’s a magic in itself. It gives people hope. And hope is the most wonderful thing there is.’

‘An impossibility is just a possibility that you don’t understand,’

Perhaps a wish was just a hope with a better aim.

Nothing makes you grow up quicker than discovering your father is not the man you think he is.

‘Christmas,’ said Nikolas. ‘What about Christmas?’ grumbled Father Vodol. ‘It is seven months away.’ ‘No, I mean, why don’t you call me Christmas? Father Christmas.’ All the elves sitting in the council room nodded. ‘Why that name?’ asked Father Topo, toying with a biscuit. ‘My mum and dad used to call me it. When I was a little boy. Because I was born on Christmas Day. It was a nickname.’

the easiest way to make other people happy was to be happy yourself, or at least to act as if you were.

‘Hello, Nikolas,’ she said. ‘Or should I call you Father Christmas? Or should I say . . . Santa Claus?’ ‘Santa Claus?’ said Nikolas. ‘What does that mean?’ The pixie giggled. ‘Oh, it’s just a name the pixies have for you. The literal translation is “Strange Man with a Big Belly”.’

The Truth Pixie squealed with delight. ‘Don’t you just love it?’ ‘Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.’ ‘I’m calling them “crackers”. You can put little presents inside. And less to clear up than with an exploding troll head.

Or maybe that new reindeer Mother Noosh found wandering the Wooded Hills. The one with the strange red nose.