The Night the Reindeer Couldn't Sleep

Settle in, my little friends. It's Santa, and tonight I have a story for you. It's called The Night the Reindeer Couldn't Sleep.

Are you cozy? Good. Then let's begin.

One snowy night at the North Pole, everything was quiet. The elves were tucked into their beds. Mrs. Claus was humming in her rocking chair. And the stars were shining softly over the rooftops.

But out in the stable, nobody was sleeping.

Dasher was pacing back and forth. "Flying season is almost here," he whispered. "I'm too excited to close my eyes."

Dancer was tapping her hooves. Tap, tap, tap. "I keep thinking about the sky," she said. "All those clouds. All those lights."

And Comet was counting stars out loud. "One hundred and twelve, one hundred and thirteen... oh no, I've lost count again!"

I heard all the fuss from my window. So I put on my slippers, picked up my lantern, and wrapped a big warm blanket around my shoulders. Then I walked across the crunchy snow to the stable.

"Now, now, my friends," I said softly. "What's all this?"

"We can't sleep," said Dasher. "Our hearts are going fast."

I sat down on a bale of hay, and all the reindeer gathered close. "Do you know what I do when I can't sleep?" I asked. "I count the quiet things."

"The quiet things?" said Comet.

"Yes. Come, close your eyes, and I'll show you. Let's start with snowflakes."

So we listened. Outside the stable door, the snow was falling, soft and slow.

"One snowflake," I whispered. "Landing on the roof. Two snowflakes. Landing on the fence. Three snowflakes, floating down like feathers."

The reindeer's ears began to droop.

"Now let's count the quiet breaths," I said. "In... and out. That's one. In... and out. That's two."

Dancer's hooves stopped tapping. Dasher's shoulders came down. Comet gave a great big yawn, and the stars he was counting began to blur into one soft, silver glow.

"Four breaths," I whispered. "Five breaths. Six."

By the time I reached seven, Dasher was fast asleep. By eight, Dancer was dreaming of clouds. And by nine, Comet was snoring, very gently, the way a sleepy reindeer does.

I tucked the blanket over them, one by one. I turned my lantern down low, until it glowed like a tiny candle.

Then I sat there a little longer, listening. The snow was falling. The stable was warm. And all around me, the whole North Pole was breathing slowly, in and out.

One quiet thing. Two quiet things. Three quiet things.

And do you know what? I yawned, too.

So I walked home through the soft snow, climbed into my own cozy bed, and pulled up my blanket. And I counted one last thing before I fell asleep: all the children, tucked in all over the world, breathing slowly, in and out.

Now it's your turn, my friend. Close your eyes. Count three slow breaths with me. In... and out. In... and out. In... and out.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams. I'll see you in the morning.