Harry the llama visits with Father Christmas. (Photo courtesy Katherine Dunn)
“Alright, I’ll be there then,” I heard Harry the llama saying.
I had just entered the barn for chores, it was near dusk. I could see nobody near Harry.
“Who are you talking to Harry?” I asked.
“Father Christmas,” said the llama, matter-of-factly.
“I can’t see him,” I said.
“I know,” said Harry. “He’s already flying somewhere, getting ready for tomorrow. I have to meet him tomorrow in the village at 12:30 sharp. In the parking lot. Can you drive me?”
“Well, of course, but perhaps you can let me in on the plan?” I said.
“He thought his presence might be especially wonderful this year, by the side of a llama. The reindeer are trying to put on weight for the Eve,” Harry said.
“I see,” I said. “Well, this is quite the surprise! You’ll need your red scarf Margaret made you, and David’s bells of course,” I said.
“Oh yes, I dreamt of Margaret last night, she is baking in heaven. And you need to polish up the bells,” he said. Margaret was an old pen pal of Harry’s who passed away at 95 recently.
The next morning Harry, dressed in his scarf and bells, ventured into the village. When we arrived at the parking lot, I could hear Harry in the back humming “Feliz Navidad.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Harry?” I asked.
“Father Christmas will find us, be patient,” the llama said.
Poof! A white bearded gentleman suddenly appeared by the truck window. I do say this in all seriousness-he seemed to be glittering in the sun.
“Good afternoon, Harry! We can’t lollygag too much, we have many people up and down the main street who will need our magic.”
“We are going to take time to get some focaccia bread from Bred in the Bone, aren’t we?” asked the llama. “And perhaps a slice from Oysterhead?”
“I need all the calories I can to get ready for my global ride,” said Father Christmas.
I was a bit in awe, standing there with Father Christmas. It’s one thing to stand next to Harry the llama and watch people react with awe and joy when they see him in the village, but when you add Father Christmas into the mix, it can be overwhelming.
After two hours of spreading joy, Father Christmas had to go. “I’m on my way to a child’s seventh birthday party. He doesn’t believe I exist so I thought I’d do a pop in. It always freaks them out, little rascals!”
And as fast as he appeared, he was gone, leaving a small pile of glitter where he had just stood.
We headed back to the farm, too tired to talk, but full of things to say later. Upon arriving, everyone rushed to see Harry.
“Was he really there?” asked little Hannah the goat.
“Yes, he was,” said Harry.
Earnest the pig ventured over. “You didn’t perhaps bring me some crusts from Oysterhead?”
“I saved you mine, Earnest,” said Harry.
Merry Christmas, everybody!
(Katherine Dunn, of Apifera Farm in Bremen, is an artist and writer. Apifera, a nonprofit, takes in elderly and special-needs animals and shares them with elder people. Learn more at katherinedunn.us.)
