Måned: desember 2011

Pulverheksa og Julenissen drar først til Politimannen sitt hus og banker på.
«Jeg holder på å bake smultringer til jul, skjønner dere,» sier Politimannen da han åpner døra. Han prøver å børste av uniformen sin som er full av mel. «Kom inn, kom inn. Og sett dere, så skal dere få smake.»

Fra Pulverheksa hjelper Julenissen av Ingunn Aamodt.

SOLSYSTEMATISK

I desember synes hagene å tilhøre gryningen,
gresset villeder lyset
og slik store deler av oss er tilbakelagt
berøres vi av vinteren, av kommende år
(ingen-dører-tilbake).

Vi blir eldre, snøfnuggene snakker til oss:
vi ofrer gladelig noen sorger, sier de.
Men hovedsakelig ser vi for oss befrielse:
epler i luften, stillhet, de filosofiske tradisjonene;
vi har ikke snudd oss.

Fra Om trær som vokser seg skakke i trange skyggefulle hager, men som likevel (eller nettopp derfor) gjør inntrykk og som man husker livet ut : dikt og meditasjoner av Rune Christiansen.

Then there were the Fairies, the guardians of mankind, who were much interested in the adoption of Claus because their own laws forbade them to become familiar with their human charges. There are instances on record where the Fairies have shown themselves to human beings, and have even conversed with them; but they are supposed to guard the lives of mankind unseen and unknown, and if they favor some people more than others it is because these have won such distinction fairly, as the Fairies are very just and impartial. But the idea of adopting a child of men had never occurred to them because it was in every way opposed to their laws; so their curiosity was intense to behold the little stranger adopted by Necile and her sister nymphs.

Claus looked upon the immortals who thronged around him with fearless eyes and smiling lips. He rode laughingly upon the shoulders of the merry Ryls; he mischievously pulled the gray beards of the low-browed Knooks; he rested his curly head confidently upon the dainty bosom of the Fairy Queen herself. And the Ryls loved the sound of his laughter; the Knooks loved his courage; the Fairies loved his innocence.

Fra The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus skrevet av L. Frank Baum.

«Of course Santa Claus will come,» said Jimmy Martin confidently. Jimmy was ten, and at ten it is easy to be confident. «Why, he’s got to come because it is Christmas Eve, and he always has come. You know that, twins.»

Yes, the twins knew it and, cheered by Jimmy’s superior wisdom, their doubts passed away. There had been one terrible moment when Theodora had sighed and told them they mustn’t be too much disappointed if Santa Claus did not come this year because the crops had been poor, and he mightn’t have had enough presents to go around.

«That doesn’t make any difference to Santa Claus,» scoffed Jimmy. «You know as well as I do, Theodora Prentice, that Santa Claus is rich whether the crops fail or not. They failed three years ago, before Father died, but Santa Claus came all the same. Prob’bly you don’t remember it, twins, ’cause you were too little, but I do. Of course he’ll come, so don’t you worry a mite. And he’ll bring my skates and your dolls. He knows we’re expecting them, Theodora, ’cause we wrote him a letter last week, and threw it up the chimney. And there’ll be candy and nuts, of course, and Mother’s gone to town to buy a turkey. I tell you we’re going to have a ripping Christmas.»

Fra novellen «Christmas at Red Butte», hentet fra Lucy Maud Montgomery Short Stories, 1909 to 1922 skrevet av L. M. Montgomery.

T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

Fra Twas the Night Before Christmas : A Visit from St. Nicholas skrevet av Clement C. Moore. Hvis du har lyst til å lese hele rimet, kan du gjøre det på The Gutenberg Project.

Det var 23. desember i fjor. Vi satt fem gamle rundt det innerste bordet i matsalen. Juletreet i hjørnet var flott. Nesten perfekt, og grøten var åasse varm. Det var virkelig en god stemning da Larsen brøt stillheten. «Denne grøten er passe varm.» Larsen hadde mye på hjerte.

En gammel selger var han. Nå bød han mest på seg selv. Det var ikke fritt for at Larsen tok ordet flere ganger i løpet av en middag. Noen ganger ble det nesten en samtale ut av det.

Fra «Lille Julaften» i boka Tydelig nok skrevet av Steinar Enerly.

Her er en liten smakebit fra billedboka Krekling, en Jul i Blåfjell-bok av Gudny Ingebjørg Hagen: