Greatfather Langeven visited the estate of a wealthy family, for he did not ignore any child, no matter the family's status. But there was a carefully wrapped box on the table next to the child's bed, and a little note, written in the child's own hand, well, helped by a staff member.
"I want no gifts, for I have plenty, but I thank you for your kindness. Please give my gifts to other children, and accept this gift from me to you."
In the gift box for Greatfather Langeven was a pair of newly sewn winter mittens. Hand made. The young child had spent all the year learning to sew, just so be able to make this for him. -- Lessons
Greatfather Langeven is a childhood god. The little ones believe with faith and fervour that he visits all the good children and gifts them what they most desire. All in exchange for offerings of milk, sweet cakes, and maybe an apple or carrot for the unicorns that draw his sleigh. He only sees that which is good in the world, and so comes for the children who believe they have been good.
Which is terribly unfair to those who've been told they're wicked their entire, brief lives. But that's a different story for a different time.
Here is a mansion, made festive in the longest night of the year. Here is a child's bedroom with a tannenbaum, all over with baubles and bows. Here is a handcart, piled high with presents with lables and addresses. Here is a little table with the accustomed offerings, and its own little present with a letter. Here is a child, fast asleep in the assurance that her dreams of sugarplums will be coming true.
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