The twelfth day of Christmas arrived. Someone chose me to shower with gifts for the twelve days of Christmas. I consider it a blessing that they didn’t shower me with birds and lords and ladies, but I wish they had graced me with the knowledge of their name. I gathered from the gifts that they knew me, which meant they were a true friend or a very skilled stalker. I decided to be positive and just enjoy the gifts as they trickled in from day to day.
On the first day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me, a gift card in a pear tree. I arrived late to work after a doctor’s appointment to find a large envelope with my name neatly printed on it. I opened it up to find a card with a glittery tree decorated with golden pears on the front. Inside, I found a gift card to my favorite local restaurant for $50.
Inside, someone had typed, ’Enjoy some time in your favorite place with your favorite person.’
I stood up slowly and peered at the cubicles around me. Everyone continued typing madly and sorting through papers on their desk as if nothing unusual was happening. I tried to subtly ask around, but no one responded in a way that made me feel they knew about my surprise. I decided to call my best friend and invite her to join me for dinner.
“So what’s up?” She asked as we dug into breaded onion petals.
“What do you mean?” I winked at her.
“Has it come to this?” She shook her head and popped another petal into her mouth. “Honey, you know I am engaged, so proposing to me leads to disappointment for you.”
It started with a grin and ended with both of us giggling hysterically. When we finally pulled ourselves together, every other customer in the restaurant was staring at us. Some quickly returned to their meals when silence descended on our table. Others continued to glare at us as we offered sheepish yet amused smiles. The remaining few looked like they wanted to join the laughter or curious about what prompted it. A few moments of silence on our part allowed everyone to return attention to where it should be, the food.
“Now that we have that out of our system, tell me what gives?” She stage whispered.
“I got a gift card for this place and I saw it as a sign to spend some time together.” I stared intently at her face as I made this confession.
“Aw, you’re the sweetest.” She finished off the last onion petal, but didn’t give any indication that she knew about the gift card.
As if summoned, the waitress returned with our meals. I waited for her bring refills and then filled my bestie in on my Secret Santa gift. We spent the rest of dinner pondering who it could be. We agreed it could only be one of ten people. I am notoriously anti-social, so not many people know my favorite restaurant.
“If you ever figure it out, let me know.” She said as we pulled on our coats.
“Of course.” I hugged her and headed home to fall asleep with mysteries in my head.
On the second day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me two puppies in love. The next morning, I expected just a normal day at work, shuffling the papers and books into smaller piles until more magically appeared. Nestled among the clutter, I found a little box, wrapped in green paper with a red ribbon. A small, folded card announced, “Two turtledoves could never show this much love.”
I contemplated saving this gift in the hope of getting fingerprints, but curiosity about the contents pushed that untenable idea aside. I carefully pulled off the paper and opened the box to reveal a little statue of two terriers smooching.
“Aw!” I sighed.
“That’s cute,” my cube neighbor appeared behind me. “It’s about time you decorated with something besides books.” She laughed and walked away without further comment.
I pondered whether she might be my Secret Santa, but we have never talked about anything but work. She wouldn’t know my favorite food or that I hope to adopt a terrier or two someday.
On the third day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me three French treats. By this point, I admit I expected to be spoiled by some small gift. Secret Santa did not disappoint. A small, pink pastry box awaited my expectant eyes. I recognized the decorative sticker holding the box closed from my favorite bakery, which I only visit on truly special occasions because delicious comfort food costs more than my paycheck can handle. I gently peeled back the sticker to open the lid and reveal three croissants nestled in a wax paper nest. As I lifted the box to inhale their sweet aroma, I found a post-it stuck to the desk under the box:
“Hope I didn’t lay an egg with this treat. Some days you like cannolis better, but they aren’t French.”
On the fourth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me four calling cards. I pondered the letter-sized envelope on my desk. The giver had typed “calling cards for you” on it. Upon lifting the flap, four tickets to the local theater tumbled onto the desk. I gasped at the realization that they were the hard to acquire, even if you have the money, open-ended tickets that can be used to claim balcony seats for any show. I stared at the tickets, feeling as if I held raw gold in my hands. If I knew who my Secret Santa was, I would have given them a huge hug and begged them to join me for whichever show they would recommend. Anyone who could get their hands on these tickets really knows the theater.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me five golden boxes. That morning, half of the office came over to check on me because I squealed with delight when I saw what awaited. Five golden boxes from one of my favorite chocolatiers greeted me when I pulled out my chair to sit down. “FIVE GOLDEN RINGS” declared a post it note. The boxes proved to be a nice assortment of my favorite varieties. After interrupting everyone’s morning, I shared one of the boxes, but I rushed the other four out to my trunk to enjoy slowly over the next few months.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me six golden eggs. When I first turned the corner into my cubicle, I exclaimed in surprise to see six golden eggs. Could my Secret Santa have showered me with expensive chocolates two days in a row? A closer inspection of my prize revealed six sets of funky tights nested in oversize Easter eggs. Underneath the basket holding my gift, a card contained the following message, “Pleas don’t get goosed in these.”
I barked a laugh. Luckily, deadlines kept my nearest cubicle neighbors from checking on me. I sighed with relief and slipped the eggs into my messenger bag. I certainly didn’t want to explain the gift of fancy pantyhose to my coworkers. This gift increased my hopes that my Secret Santa would reveal themself to be female.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me seven swans. Another day brought another neatly wrapped gift. This time brown paper covered the box and bits of jute and small, cloth poinsettias add color to the drab paper. Inside seven delicate swan ornaments nestled in styrofoam cut to keep them safe. I pulled one out and marveled at the rainbows thrown across my cubicle by the cut crystal.
“Work never looked so magical,” My cubicle neighbor offered on her way by, but she didn’t stop to chat. The holiday party started early and we all wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupted by unfinished tasks calling us back to our desks and away from the pot luck and white elephant gift party.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me eight pieces of dulce de leches cake. I drooled the moment I laid my eyes on the white box from my second favorite bakery. If history proved correct, I could guess what was inside without looking. I was not wrong. The moment I lifted the lid, the sweet aroma of the cake overwhelmed my senses. Even I knew I couldn’t keep that much deliciousness to myself. My coworkers and I had finished the cake before I realized this gift had not come with a cryptic card. As our revisited party wound to an end, I stumbled back to my desk. Still no card. I shrugged. Maybe they would have more to say the next day. Only four more days to surprise me.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me nine reasons to dance to the beat of my own drum. As soon as I lifted the oversized envelope, I knew my CD collection just received another member. I ripped open the paper and examined my new acquisition. Nine tracks to belly dance to, featuring drums. I opened the card to find more words than usual, perhaps a repayment for yesterday’s lapse of exposition.
“I bet you thought I forgot, but I didn’t. I had no appropriate comments about maids and milking. I hope you and your friends enjoyed the cake. I know it is one of your favorites, but I also know you are generous. So this one is just for you unless you want to dance for your coworkers…”
On the tenth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me ten warm fingers. That gift surprised me a little. Secret Santa didn’t bother wrapping it. He just stuck a bow on a pair of gloves and draped them over my keyboard. He also didn’t leave a note. Not that he needed to. Gloves are pretty self-explanatory. Though these were nice gloves, thin and fur-lined, for warmth and comfort. And the tan suede has offered me an air of elegance on every winter day since.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me eleven tracks of music played on a pipe organ. Secret Santa went above and beyond to find the right gift for this day. He or she somehow found a Christmas CD featuring the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square that contains exactly eleven tracks with the famous pipe organ lending its tones to holiday favorites. I started to wonder if they worked for a music store. That would narrow it down. Most of the music stores have closed down. As I open the case, a slip of paper falls out.
“These pipers have integrity.”
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my Secret Santa gave to me twelve boxes nested inside each other. When I pulled out the last box, I paused to admire the beautifully wrapped package with its golden ribbons and silver paper. I gently unwrapped the paper, wondering what could fit in such a thin box. With the thoughtfulness and variety displayed by the eleven previous gifts, I couldn’t imagine what I would find. Nestled inside the folds of tissue paper, I found something that stole my breath. As I gasped for air, the picture burned itself into my retinas.
My boss’s face looked up at me from the image with enough blush on her cheeks for three darker toned woman. Spidery eyelashes hung askew from her dark eyes. That wasn’t the most haunting aspect of the picture, however. She had her arms wrapped around her boss’s husband, and he obviously liked it. A picture like that would instantly torpedo the morale of the whole company, destroying what had promised to be a very merry Christmas. Secret Santa proved not to be a saint just by having that photo, but a note poked out from under the photo.
“I know how you love to throw fund raisers. You better raise some money quickly. If I don’t receive $25,000 dollars by the end of the month, this picture goes viral and you will get all the credit.”
I gasped. I realized my mistake as I heard my nosy neighbor’s chair rolling toward me. I quickly closed the box as her cheerful voice penetrated to dance around the new knowledge in my mind.
“Something wrong in here? Did your secret Santa give you tickets somewhere exotic? Maybe where they will reveal themself?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
I shuddered. “Um. No. Just realized I forgot to order a gift for my mom and now it might not get here in time.”
She frowned and nodded toward the array of boxes scattered around my desk. “So what did you get?”
“Just a letter wishing me a happy holiday.” I forced a smile.
“It wasn’t a poem was it?” She asked as she toed one of the boxes with her shoe.
“No. Thank goodness.” I offered a true smile as we laughed about our shared aversion to poetic gestures.
Our laughter faded out as her phone rang insistently. “Sorry. I forgot I have a meeting. Talk later? Yeah?”
As she rushed off, I pondered my options. Sighing, I realized only one option would result in any chance of a happy holiday for any of us. How could eleven wonderfully thoughtful gifts come from the same person who apparently was apparently willing to ruin at least five lives for $25,000?
~~
“Come in.” My boss responded to my soft knock.
I clutched the slim box tighter in my hand as I turned the knob and stepped inside. I turned to close the door behind me and took a calming breath. She smiled at me as I turned toward her, waiting patiently. She looked completely normal—so unlike the picture.
“Is something wrong?” She finally asked as I failed to find words.
“I ..uh…” I held out the box to her. “Someone sent me this and I don’t think I should decide what to do about it.”
She looked at me curiously but accepted the box. As she pulled off the lid, she started to laugh. Shocked, I stared at her. As her laughter continued to echo through her office, I glanced at the door, wondering if I should seek help or slap the hysterics out of her. She finally stifled the laughter before I decided on a course of action.
“I don’t know who send you this, but they have a terrible sense of humor. Come on.” She grabbed up the box in one hand and offered me the other.
I took it tentatively and allowed her to drag me along in her wake. I tried to pull free as I realized our steps led us to the hallway that only led to her boss’s office.
“Be brave. We’ll have this all worked out soon.”
“But, I…”
"You can’t lose your job for someone playing a cruel trick on you.”
That reassurance bolstered my courage enough to follow in her wake as she released my hand and marched to her boss’s door.
“Katey, are you decent?” She called out.
I shuddered and reflexively tried to make myself as small as possible as the door flew open. “I’m never decent and neither are you.” The two ladies erupted into a fit of giggles, which abruptly ended as Katey noticed me.
She instantly sobered up, clearing her throat running her hands down the front of her dress. “Can I help you ladies with something?”
My boss stepped forward, to hand over the box. “Someone sent this to her.”
After a glance at the photograph, Katey shook her head and turned to me with a wry grin. “Don’t worry. I know about this picture. I took it at a Halloween party here a couple of years ago.”
“Really?” I squeaked.
“Yes. Really. Whoever sent this to you probably knew that but was relying on your discretion.”
“Yeah. We should reward you for bringing it to us.” My boss added.
“I don’t need anything…” After all, I did get eleven days worth of thoughtful gifts before this one, but I didn’t tell them that.
“Well, we will make sure you have job security then.” Katey laughed.
“I am pretty sure I have that.” I replied.
“Yeah. She works on all the projects everyone else doesn’t want.”
“Well, just let me know if you need anything.” Katey smiled and extended her hand.
Somehow, I had a feeling this implied promise of a favor might have been my true twelfth day of Christmas gift. My Secret Santa had even more secrets than I counted on. I wondered if I would ever find out who he or she was.
~~Whew! That got a little dark toward the end. I hope I salvaged it and kept you in the Christmas spirit. Keep thinking of family and feasts and love and true gifts of love, my friends.~~
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