The stories which resonate with us most are ones with the ring of familiarity and of memory. Especially at Christmas.
Which is why J.R.R. Tolkien’s Letters From Father Christmas strikes such a chord with me.
Tolkien, of course, is best known as author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings — one long story in two books of unparalleled imagination and adventure, featuring much-loved characters and their much-feared enemies.
How could Tolkien — who dreamed up hobbits, orcs, ents, balrogs, dark lords, etc. — write a book about Christmas? In truth, he didn’t.
The Father Christmas Letters, as the book is also called, is a collection of letters and illustrations Tolkien wrote and drew for his children from 1920 to 1943. The book was first published in 1976, three years after Tolkien’s death.
The letters were from Father Christmas, yet another Santa Claus name, to Tolkien’s children as Dec. 25 approached during those times.
John Tolkien got the first letter at age three and they continued throughout the childhoods of his siblings Michael, Christopher and Priscilla.
Now this is something most parents can relate to, that special relationship their children have with Saint Nicholas, the jolly old elf who fills their Christmas stockings with presents and toys each December.
But Tolkien took it at least one step further.
“He (Father Christmas) described in words and pictures his house, his friends, and the events, hilarious or alarming, at the North Pole,” the book’s introduction reads.
Tolkien, to no one’s surprise, also took all the right measures to authenticate the letters.
“Sometimes the envelopes, dusted with snow and bearing Polar postage stamps, were found in the house on the morning after his visit; sometimes the postman brought them; and the letters that the children wrote themselves vanished from the fireplace when no one was about,” the intro also reads.
How many parents have taken their own similar measures to help their children believe in Christmas magic.
I remember one Christmas Eve staying up until 3 a.m. to assemble a table-top hockey game for my sleeping son to ensure he got Santa’s present ready to play, straight out of the sleigh.
Or quizzing other members of my family about what I might put in my daughter’s stocking, just to make sure Santa surprised her.
Tolkien, like the rest of us at Christmas, must have struggled to find the time to write letters and draw illustrations for his children.
But we do it because, well, they’re our kids and we want them to enjoy some Christmas magic.
Maybe even pass it on to their children, when the time eventually comes.
Letters From Father Christmas also reflected the times. Tolkien’s letters spoke of the hardship of families during the Depression of the 1930s, and of evil tidings coming before the Second World War of 1939-45.
He also wrote about and illustrated the characters who added so much colour to the tales of Father Christmas, including the North Polar Bear — who was mischief and disaster rolled together — along with Snow-elves, Red Gnomes, Cave-bears, Snow-men and even Goblins (often called orcs when the reference is Middle-earth).
Tolkien’s Father Christmas Letters were sometimes very brief, but got longer as the years went by and there were more adventures to report, most at the North Pole — which the North Polar Bear famously climbed one year and had a dreadful fall.
I’m not going to tell you what happened between Father Christmas and the Goblins, but you can probably guess.
There are, of course, many great stories, books and movies about Christmas.
Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol from 1843 is probably the most famous, and deservedly so.
Letters From Father Christmas is decidedly less famous but a worthwhile read nonetheless.
I hadn’t even heard of it until a few years ago, when one of my sisters presented me with a copy — the inference being that I didn’t know quite as much about Tolkien as I thought I did.
And that she thought I would like it.
When my children were small, I used to always read them ’Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore on Christmas Eve. When they reached a certain age (I don’t remember what), the readings stopped.
The Father Christmas Letters remind me of sitting with my children, warm on a wintry night, a good story before us, their excitement evident, and why I do miss reading to them every Christmas Eve.
And that’s a very good feeling to remember.
Bob Bruton is a staff reporter at BarrieToday.
