On a quiet Christmas Eve, a curious little mouse named Martin waits by his window, hoping for a moment of holiday magic.
In a cozy little hole near the window, tucked into the corner of a quiet house, lived a tiny mouse named Martin. His bed was made of soft cotton and lined with scraps of colorful fabric, and it sat perfectly by the window where he could watch the world outside. From his perch, Martin could see the glittering Christmas tree, the stockings hanging by the fireplace, and the snow gently falling outside.
It was Christmas Eve, and Martin was wide awake. While everyone else in the house was sound asleep, Martin had a very special plan: he wanted to see Santa Claus.
“All year long, I’ve heard stories of Santa,” Martin whispered, snuggling under his patchwork quilt. “Tonight, I’ll finally see if they’re true.”
The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional pop of the fireplace. Martin kept his little eyes fixed on the tree, where the twinkling lights cast a warm glow.
Hours passed, and Martin’s eyelids began to feel heavy. “No, I mustn’t fall asleep,” he told himself, sitting up and peering out the frosty window. The snow outside sparkled like tiny stars, but there was no sign of Santa yet.
Just as Martin began to nod off, he heard a faint jingle. His ears perked up, and he bolted upright. Through his little window, he saw a sleigh landing gently on the snowy rooftop. Reindeer pawed the air as a figure in a red suit climbed down the chimney.
“It’s him!” Martin whispered, his heart racing.
Peeking out from his hole, Martin watched as Santa Claus stepped into the room, carrying a sack full of toys. Santa moved with quiet grace, placing gifts beneath the tree and filling the stockings with care.
As Santa finished his work, he paused by the window. Martin froze, thinking he had been spotted. But to his surprise, Santa leaned close and spoke in a gentle voice.
“I see you, little one,” Santa said with a twinkle in his eye. “Come closer, don’t be shy.”
Martin hesitated but then scampered onto the windowsill, clutching his tiny blanket. Santa smiled and reached into his sack. “For you, Martin,” he said, pulling out a golden acorn. “A gift for a mouse who believes in magic.”
Martin’s whiskers twitched with excitement as he accepted the acorn. “Thank you, Santa! I’ll treasure it forever.”
Santa chuckled softly. “You’ve been very good this year. Keep your kind heart, little friend. It’s the greatest gift of all.”
With a wink, Santa disappeared up the chimney, leaving behind a trail of sparkling stardust. Martin climbed back into his little bed, holding the golden acorn close. As he drifted off to sleep, he knew he had witnessed something truly magical.
From that Christmas Eve on, Martin kept his bed by the window, ready to watch for Santa each year. And though he never stirred on any other night, the memory of that magical visit warmed his tiny heart forever.
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