During the time of the Viking raids, the was one vicious warrior by the name of Claude. As the son of a long line of great Viking killers, Claude was destined for greatness. He lead the attack on Iona in 802 when he was just 14 years old. During this attack, he single-handedly found and stole the solid gold, jewel encrusted cover of the infamous Book of Kells.
Claude was returning back to Norway, to celebrate his recent victory over the monks of Ireland. He had stolen their greatest treasure. He had slain their leaders. Their monks. Their orphans. He showed no remorse.
His favorite part was walking through the orphanage after everyone had been killed, or had fled for their lives. He walked down every hallway, every row of beds, and took one thing from every child’s belongings. As a sort of trophy. He had hundreds, of dolls, toys, necklaces, stuffed animals, wooden swords, and shields. Claude was ruthless. Nothing was spared.
However, after years of slaughter, all the killing became tedious. Claude found almost no joy in stealing the toys anymore. He had rooms filled with knick knacks and bears and wooden carvings. Cleaning the blood off his sword used to be fun for him, a sign of triumph; but now it was just a chore. He was losing the sparkle in his eye.
Then one day when Claude and his Viking clan were pillaging yet another small village near to their homestead, Claude found something that would change his life forever.
So. The Viking Clan was vicious and cruel
And they spared no man or jewel.
Claude was the most feared, the most vengeful,
He spared no life, he was truly dreadful.
He was the leader of this clan,
He was known throughout the land.
Claude had flourished through his years,
He had seen thousands of tears,
The blood pouring from small children,
Was his favorite sight then.
However, the famed Viking grew weary.
For years he believed that he could see things clearly.
But his vision was stained with blood,
He knew nothing, it was as clear as mud.
The life he thought he knew,
Was full of hate and could not be true.
He had rooms filled with treasured artifacts,
But the treasures were just broken hearts.
A child’s beloved toy,
Something that used to signify joy,
Was now something that collected dust.
Claude began to see that his actions were not just.
He was ordered to fight,
Long into the night.
He broke down a door in the village,
As Vikings were known to rape and pillage.
But this house was different,
As soon as he stepped in the room with ignorance,
His veil was lifted.
There lay a child upon the ground,
Without a single toy to be found.
Not a trace of love was found in the house,
As the child tried to be as small as a mouse.
He tried to hide out of fear for Claude.
He had nowhere else but behind a log.
Claude saw the sparkle in the boy’s eye,
That he began to lack and couldn’t comply.
He shut the door to the town,
And he set his sword down.
Claude kneeled before the boy,
And asked “Do you have a single toy?”
The boy froze in fear
And mumbled something Claude couldn’t hear.
“Speak up boy!” Claude groaned.
“No I don’t. My family forgot me.” the boy moaned.
These words struck pain right to Claude’s heart.
He never thought he would be torn apart.
Claude was taken aback
To a time where he was under attack.
Claude was once very loving,
He had a family who was caring.
Until one day his father did not come back.
His mother turned sour.
His brother was in line to get power.
His sister had left to marry,
But Claude was left alone and wary.
Claude was forgotten.
He was given food that was rotten.
When he turned fourteen,
He snuck out at night when he could not be seen.
He grew to be vengeful.
He grew to be not merciful.
Claude grew to hate children.
He became jealous of them.
He was jealous of those in the orphanage
Because he couldn’t stand his parents image.
He knew his mother didn’t care.
But they all had a bear.
Something to hold at night.
Something to comfort them when they had a fright.
Or some had a doll.
Even if it was small,
It was still more than Claude had.
But this boy cowering in front of him now,
Had nothing, and how could he allow
Himself to harm this boy, who he had
So much in common with?
This boy felt his pain.
He had everything to gain.
He would teach him the ways.
To be at the end of the days,
All he ever needed.
“Boy, come with me, you will become
the next Viking leader” said Claude.
He grabbed the boys hand and pulled him from his log.
He gathered his sword and started out,
But the boy pulled back and began to pout.
“What? What is it boy?” questioned the Viking.
He ran back inside and started crying.
“I don’t want to kill anyone!” the boy shrieked.
“Are you not filled with the same steeped
Hatred that I am?” demanded Claude.
“No!” he said broadly.
“How?” questioned Claude
The boy looked meekly up at him
“I miss them.”
A single tear fell from the boy’s face.
All Claude could do was begin to pace.
“You miss them?” he asked.
The boy clamored
“Yes. My mother used to tell me stories,
Stories of new territories.
Places without death,
Somewhere we didn’t have to hold our breath.
And my sister used to bring in flowers,
She said they had magic powers.
Powers to keep evil away,
I dearly wish she could have stayed.
I was forgotten.
But it was because of a promise.”
“What promise?” Claude wondered
“A promise to stay if our farm was plundered.
As the man of the house my father made me promise
To stay. But my mother and sister vanished.”
Claude thought back to his mother.
Before his father,
Mama was always kind,
She always needed his help to find
Flowers to put on the table,
As his sister was never able.
His sister had a bad foot,
And could never be anything but barefoot.
It was a miracle that anyone even wanted
To marry her. Boys always taunted
Until one fell in love with her soul.
His mother once gave him a bowl
And told him to find any berries he could
And they would make jam. Claude stood,
He went back to the boy,
And as a tear rolled down his cheek,
Claude whispered, “I miss them too.”
The sparkle came back to Claude’s eye.
This boy had showed him,
That not all children are evil
And have a better life than he.
Even the children,
Who did not know love at all
Did not have it better than he.
He began to feel sorry.
For the children who he had slain.
All of the towns he had destroyed,
All because of the hatred he felt.
He had held a grudge for so long,
That he could not remember,
What it was like to love.
But this boy had reminded him
Of what his family was like before
They all left or were heartbroken.
This boy. With a single tear
reminded him what love was.
Claude stomped out of the house
And this time the boy followed suit.
The marched back to Claude’s house.
“Now before I show you what is inside these rooms,
You must promise me you will help me.” Warned Claude.
“If what you want is true and good
Then I will help you.” Promised the boy.
The door squeaked open.
They ventured into the open room.
“this does not look so bad” Commented the boy.
“You haven’t seen what I must show you.”
Claude walked over to the closet
and opened the door.
Out poured hundreds of dolls,
And he walked to another,
Opened the door,
And out came hundreds of stuffed bears.
Every one of Claude’s trophies came
out from hiding. Every blood stained
dress. Every singed bear.
Every one of the stolen treasures that
Claude had accumulated over the years.
The boy watched in horror.
He picked up one of the dolls.
Her hair was burnt.
He picked up on of the bears.
It was missing an eye.
One of the wooden swords that lay one the ground
Had been stained by blood.
“What are you expecting to do
With these now?” asked the boy.
“Why, I want to give them back!” Chuckled Claude.
“But they are ruined!” protested the boy.
“They are burned and covered in blood.
And worst of all you killed
All of their owners.”
“I want to fix what I have done.
No one should have to live
Like I have lived.
Without love. Without someone
To care for them.
Someone to hold at night.
There is no joy in ruining lives
For me anymore.” Said Claude.
“In order to fix all the harm you have done
You have to first fix these toys,
Put the love back into them.
Clean the blood off at least.”
Claude used to find joy in cleaning
The blood of his victims off his weapons.
However, he has now found a new joy.
As he scrubs to remove the blood
And cuts away the burnt hair and fur,
Claude feels his heart begin to grow warmer.
After two days of cleaning the boy remarks
“We need more help.”
“There are children in the village
Down the mountain,
Maybe they could help us?” Suggested Claude.
So they ventured down the mountain
Until the found an orphanage.
When the children saw Claude approaching
They shrieked from the inside.
The boy went in alone.
He came back out soon after,
With twenty other boys and girls.
“They said they would help
If they could each have one toy
As payment.” Spoke the boy.
“Of course! We have plenty to go around!”
Chuckled Claude.
Claude was changing so fast
Even the boy could not keep up.
He donned on glasses to see the fine details
Of the toys. He began to learn
The names of all the children.
His hair turned white
And his beard grew longer.
He began to favor the color red,
So much so his cheeks always had a rosy glow.
The boy became his right hand man,
And all the other children
Treated him like a superior.
There was one little girl
Who could not say Claude,
Because she had a lisp.
She called his Clause.
Mister Clause.
Soon all the children began to call him
Mister Clause as they all
Worked on the toys to get them ready
To be taken to children in all of the surrounding villages.
They worked tirelessly
Day and night
To make enough for every child in every village
To get at least one toy.
Whenever he began to miss
The life he used to lead
He simply looked at the smiling faces
The surrounded him.
The love they showed him.
It warmed his heart,
Right to the core.
One-day Mister Clause asked the boy
“Son, I never got the chance to know your name.
We were too busy working
Every day and every night.”
He looked at the man in front of him,
He looked nothing like
The Viking that stood in his doorway
Not long ago.
“My name is Nikolaus.”
