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Adapted from Chris van Allsburg’s The Polar Express.
On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly on my couch. I was listening for a sound – a sound Eric had told me I’d never hear – the ringing bells of Santa’s sleigh.
Late that night I did hear sounds, though not of ringing bells. From outside came the sounds of hissing steam and squeaking metal. I looked through my window and saw a train standing perfectly still in front of my house.
A conductor stood at the open door of one of the cars. “All aboard!” the conductor cried out.
“Well,” he said, “are you coming?”
“Where?” I asked.
“Why, to the North Pole of course,” was his answer. “This is the Polar Express.”
The train was filled with other children, all in their pajamas and nightgowns.
We drank hot cocoa as thick and rich as melted chocolate bars.
Outside, the lights of towns and villages flickered in the distance as the Polar Express raced northward.
The North Pole. At first we saw no elves.
“They are gathering at the center of the city,” the conductor told us. “That is where Santa will give the first gift of Christmas.”
“Look,” shouted one of the children, “the elves.” As our train drew closer to the center of the North Pole, we slowed to a crawl, so crowded were the streets with Santa’s helpers.
The elves moved apart and Santa Claus appeared. The elves cheered wildly.
He marched over to us and, pointing to me, said, “Let’s have this child here.” He asked, “Now, what would you like for Christmas?”
I knew that I could have any gift I could imagine. But the thing I wanted most for Christmas was not inside Santa’s giant bag. What I wanted more than anything was one silver bell from Santa’s sleigh. When I asked, Santa smiled. Then he gave me a hug and told an elf to cut a bell from a reindeer’s harness. The elf tossed it up to Santa. He stood, holding the bell high above him, and called out, “The first gift of Christmas!”
As soon as we were back inside the Polar Express, the other children asked to see the bell. I reached into my pocket, but the only thing I felt was a hole. I had lost the silver bell from Santa Claus’s sleigh. It broke my heart to lose the bell.
On Christmas morning, Eric and I opened our presents. When it looked as if everything had been unwrapped, Eric found one last small box behind the tree.
It had my name on it. Inside was the silver bell! I shook the bell. It made the most beautiful sound Eric and I had ever heard.
At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Eric found one Christmas that he could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I’ve grown old, the bell still rings for me as it does for all who truly believe.
