T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… Except for Brandon. The young red fox was awake, deeply excited, unable to sleep as his thoughts collided. Clad in an outfit of  hoodie and shorts, the cold frosted the window without any remorse. Restlessly tossing and turning, the pre-teen got up and crept down the stairs, that clever young pup. He took his time knowing that more than a few of the steps were quite creaky if you did not know what to do.
Arriving at the ground floor, Brandon looked ‘round the house. It was dark, around midnight, his breath came out as clouds. Christmas pictures had been hung on the walls, or placed on the mantle, displaying trips to the mall. The gifts were all wrapped and under the tree, which which shone red and green while ornaments hung free. On the table there waited a treat, a glass full of milk and cookies to eat. Yet the seeming perfection of this holiday scene was tarnished by something that could not quite be seen.
“Perhaps this is why I can’t sleep,” he thought. “There’s snow on the ground, and the tree’s lights are all on.” Grabbing a cookie, he walked to the sofa and sat, looking at a picture of himself from seven years back. “Something is missing, sure there’s the snow and the tree, the gifts are all wrapped, and there’s a stocking for each of us, mom, dad, and me.”
Idly, he ate, scanning the walls until his eyes rested on an old picture with Santa Claus. Around five years of age, he sat proud on Santa’s lap, though nowadays, Brandon might call that man a hack. It was then that he realized what had gone wrong, his belief in Saint Nick was all but gone. Yawning, he thought, “Yes, that must be it. I just don’t believe, like when I was a kit.”
He lay down and imagined being 5 once more. The gifts all seemed bigger! He rushed out his door! Down the stairs his parents would wait, with wide-smiling faces to start off his day. As he fell asleep, he made one more wish, “Let me believe in the magic, I want to love Christmas.”
Soundly asleep, with hardly a snore, Santa himself came from the chimney once more. Laying the gifts under the tree, he ate his cookies and milk with blinding speed. He then returned to the young fox’s side. He had heard the boy’s wish as he crept back inside. With a snap of the fingers, and a jolly old chuckle, he snuck up the chimney; Brandon hardly moving a muscle. Not too long after Saint Nick had left, Brandon grew smaller, having age-regressed.
In the morning he woke, finding the cookies all gone. There were gifts under the tree. He knew Santa had come along. Around five years of age, his belief was restored. He ran up to his parents, disrupting their slumber. Now self-assured that this Christmas was the best Christmas of all, he wished for a brand new soccer ball.
When finally his parents had gotten up, they all opened their gifts, smiles on faces, finding each granted wish. The ball was right there, and other things too! The stockings were stuffed with games and more things to do! Pictures were taken to be put on the mantle. All was merry and bright in Brandon’s household.