It was Christmas Eve late one night in the river. The moon shone a pale light on the water, and a thin layer of ice glinted off the surface. All the little hatchlings were hanging up their stockings--all except the tiniest of all, Billy Bluegill.
Billy Bluegill had argued that night with the other hatchlings, for he refused to believe in Salmon Claus, the magical fish who delivered gifts of seaweed and shrimp to good little fishies all over the world.
"There’s no such thing as Salmon Claus," he boasted, causing his friends to cry in dismay, "No Salmon Claus! But what about the school of eight tiny seahorses he rides at the head of? And his long white barbels, and the shop where his trained guppies make toys?"
"Ha!" exclaimed Billy. He had so much to learn.
After the school had gone to their beds, with visions of zebra mussels dancing in their wee little heads, Billy Bluegill sat up, wondering how he was going to get any presents since there truly wasn’t a Salmon Claus. He wrestled over this idea for hours, then finally decided it didn’t really matter anyway. He was tiny, but he was tough.
Just as he was settling down among the sea-moss-covered rocks, Billy Bluegill felt a strong tremor in the water. He poked his head out to see what was causing all the fuss and...
It was really and truly Salmon Claus! Just like everyone described: the roly-poly scales, the long white barbels, and the little red hat strapped onto his shining head. He was dragging a large sack upon the sea-bed, very heavy and full of all sorts of things--fish food and seaweed hoops, chocolate-covered shrimp and real live sea monkeys. There was a small skate assisting Salmon Claus in deciding which present went to which good hatchling, and which one just deserved a large chunk of coral in its stocking.
When Salmon Claus and the skate reached Billy Bluegill’s stocking, they looked at each other, shook their fins sadly, and Salmon Claus reached for a big lump of coral.
"Wait!" Billy Bluegill shouted. "But I’ve been good this year! I helped out the little elvers, and visited Old Mr. Trout at the Old Fish’s School."
"But Billy Bluegill," replied the skate, eyeing him from the top of his head, as skates are apt to do, "what about Salmon Claus? You told many unhappy hatchlings he isn’t even real."
"I believe now," Billy Bluegill stated earnestly. "Salmon Claus really does exist, and the spirit of Christmas lies in believing in miracles and sharing joy."
The skate looked at him in surprise. "Wow, that’s really profound. I was just going to tell you to keep your bed of rocks cleaner and be nicer to the hatchlings. But your answer’s just as good."
"Better, even," boomed Salmon Claus, and Billy Bluegill looked up with a delighted grin. On that note, Salmon Claus removed the lump of coral and put in its place the cutest, cuddliest sea monkey you could ever imagine. It wagged its dorsal fin at Billy Bluegill and barked. Billy Bluegill picked it up, and it immediately lavished his facial scales with pink-tongued kisses. He giggled as he held the squirming sea monkey, and looked up to thank Salmon Claus, but the jolly old fish was no longer there. Out of the corner of his eye was a bright flash of silver, and he turned to see a school of eight tiny seahorses pulling a small clam shell carrying Salmon Claus and the skate. He waved good-bye with his pectoral fin, then hugged the sea monkey and returned, sleepily, to his bed of rocks.
The next morning, as the little hatchling woke to discover, delighted, the pile of gifts left to them by Salmon Claus, Billy Bluegill related his adventure to his school-mates.
"Wow!" they exclaimed. "So you really did see Salmon Claus!"
"Yup," replied Billy--but no longer boastfully. "And look at the cute sea monkey he left me!" All the fishes petted the happy sea monkey, and argued good-naturedly over who got to hold it.
"I don’t believe Salmon Claus came," one minnow replied, a smirk on his face.
Billy Bluegill just smiled, for he knew that Christmas is not something you know, it’s something you feel inside. Maybe next year the minnow would learn that...next year...
Billy Bluegill co. Freya Lorelei 2000