Christmas Eve: lost package, found package

   It was December 24 and all was still except for the snowflakes drifting lazily down each, arriving exactly where they were supposed to go, the last deliveries from a tumultuous month of deliveries. 

   All the UPS, FedEx, and USPS trucks were nestled in their respective garages. Their exhausted drivers were deep under covers for a well-deserved rest; each one dreaming of house numbers transposed, street names misspelled, and misguided GPS directions, as mountains of packages descended from the sky. 

 Only one driver remained on duty. Having rested all year, this driver was spry and active and moving at full speed - in spite of his very old age as one could guess by his white beard, which matched his white gloves and fluffy coat collar. 

   He had finished his run in record time, having delivered at least one package to every boy and girl in Jericho, Underhill, and Richmond.  His rosy cheeks and a belly full of chocolate and cookies gave testament to his reward. He chuckled at first, then rolled out a full belly laugh to think of the joy and happiness that filled the air as kindness drifted out of chimneys, more on this night than any other. And this gave him hope, as all acts of kindness do. 

   Just as he was about to turn north to head home, an FPF (Front Porch Forum) post flashed on his sleigh dashboard. The message read, "LOST PACKAGE"! "Oh, dear, dear me", he thought, "tonight of all nights, we cannot have any, no not any lost packages." 

   But before he could re-check his delivery list - a list with thousands of names and addresses - another "Lost Package" notice popped up, then another, and another, then ten more, then dozens that announced "MISSING PACKAGE", and one that said, "DELIVERED TO Johnny, but BELONGS TO Sally". The messages started appearing so fast he could hardly finish reading one before another appeared. Some of the lost packages were showing up as "FOUND PACKAGE, if your name is so and so, we have your package". The screen was scrolling so fast now it became just a blur, a flurry of misdelivered packages on Christmas Eve. This had never happened before, not on Christmas Eve. 

   In a near panic, he thought, "With only a few precious hours left before Christmas, what to do? And how could this happen? An errant disgruntled Elf? An uncalibrated GPS? Did my glasses fog up? I knew those signs did not look right." 

   "No matter, the important thing now is to deliver these misdirected packages each, to their rightful child. But how with so little time left?" Santa looked over at his reindeer and realized even if he was still spry, they were wasted from pulling the sleigh all night. He could not ask them to do much more tonight. 

   "There is only one thing to do," he thought. "I must call on the goodwill of these communities to help me. These boxes, each carefully filled with a gift, stuffed with love and care, sealed tightly with the glue of a warm hug, addressed in large block letters with the utmost accuracy and legibility, must - they must - be delivered to the correct address by Christmas morning."   

   And so, as increasing snowflakes clustered together as though holding hands (severely limiting visibility), Santa abandoned his sleigh and began knocking on doors, walking from house to house, asking for help. 

   Luckily some of the first houses he came to were those of UPS, FedEx, and USPS drivers who, after wakening and quickly downing some coffee, gathered around Santa to see how they could help. 

   Soon neighbors were stepping out to see what all the flashlights and scurrying was all about, and once informed of the lost and found and misdirected packages, jumped in to search and match lost and found with the correct deliverance. 

   Within an hour hundreds of folks were making corrected deliveries, only not through chimneys but by knocking softly on doors to deliver in person. And a strange thing happened as a result of the lost and found on Christmas Eve. Neighbors got to know each other a little bit better. Some were invited in for cookies and hot chocolate. Some made plans to have a skating or sledding outing together to allow whole families to meet up. And the FedEx and UPS and USPS folks gained additional respect for helping out, especially given the knowledge that even Santa can occasionally make a delivery error. 

   Santa finally made it home, mission accomplished, as the clock struck the early hours of Christmas morning. Mrs. Claus had been very worried, and when Santa had told her the whole story they both shared a long-lasting hug, knowing that even when things go wrong, even when a problem is bigger than any one person, community - folks working together to help each other - gets the job done. Ribbons on packages are pretty and presents are fine, but the kindness that goes into those packages is the most important gift of all. 

   As the last snowflakes fell from the sky, an errant wind threatened to blow them off course. Just then two neighbors stepped out onto their porches to wish each other a Merry Christmas, and the warm air, some would say the warm air of kindness, drifted out of the two houses and combined, pushing back against the cold breeze. allowing the snowflakes to land just where they were supposed to go. 

Wishing you all, kindness received just where and when you need it.

~Bernie

For more read Lost Packages a Jerich Legend 

POSTSCRIPT: I think Seven Days "Free Will Astrology" for Scorpio, hit it right on the mark for me: 

"Prolific author Ray Bradbury liked to give advice to those with a strong need to express their imaginative originality. Since I expect you will be a person like that in 2022, I'll convey to you one of his exhortations. He wrote, "If you want to create you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling. I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime. I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you." Keep in mind that Bradbury was referring to constructive craziness, wise foolishness, and divine madness."