Mila and Saint Nicholas

“A bit more!” Mila rubs the red boot. Papa holds up the other one.
“Well, is it shining?”
Oh yes! Now Saint Nicholas can come.

“Wait!” Mila drags over the boots of Papa.
Huge. Much more fits in there!
Papa laughs. “Saint Nicholas doesn’t look at the size.”
All right. The red ones then.

“And the donkey? He must be hungry!”
Mila puts a carrot beside the boots. Some straw too. Mama holds the door.
“Enjoy your meal, dear donkey!”

“How far does the donkey walk?”
“From house to house. All night long.”
Mila sits up. “Then he needs two carrots!”
“One is enough,” says Mama. “Sleep now.”
Sleep? Now?

The house lies very still.
There: clip, clop. What was that?
Mila sits up in bed and listens.
Again: clip, clop.
That sounds like little hooves!

On tiptoe to the window. Very quietly.
A red coat! A golden staff! And the donkey nibbling the carrot.
“For you,” whispers Mila.

The carrot: gone. The hay: gone.
The donkey sniffs at the boots.
“Those are not for eating!”
whispers Saint Nicholas and scratches his ear.
Mila holds their breath.

The boots are full. Now Saint Nicholas looks up at the window. Right here!
A smile. A finger on the lips.
“Shhh.”
Mila gives a tiny wave back.
That stays a night-time secret.

Clip, clop. Softer. Softer.
Then only snow.
Mila creeps back to bed.
The secret comes along under the blanket.
Not even the pillow gets to know.

In the morning the carrot is gone. The straw too.
But what is this?
Mila holds a little wooden donkey.
“For me? You’re coming with me!”

“Wake up! He was here!”
Mila jumps onto the bed, boots under the arm.
A tangerine rolls away.
Mama blinks. Papa yawns.
“Who was here?”
“Saint Nicholas! And the donkey!”

At breakfast Mila whispers:
“Saint Nicholas saw me! And didn’t tell.”
Mama listens. Papa smiles.
“You may sleep next to my bed, little donkey.
Until the next clip, clop!”