father christmas

My brother phoned.

“Guess who is just met?”

Well, how am I supposed to know whom he could possibly have met in the middle of the summer in Helsinki?

He had gone to his neighbourhood grocery shop to ask for a cardboard box. They had none. But as he was leaving, disappointed, one of the customers said that he might have some in his office, just around the corner. Excellent. Typical for my brother – good luck that is.

As they walked towards this office the bearded man, being good mannered, introduced himself. “Father Christmas”

My brother shook his hand, and I can only imagine what had gone through his head.

But this man was indeed the only, true, real and official all-year-round Father Christmas. It being July he was still on holiday but apparently off to Japan only few days later. What he went to Japan for I did not quite understand – maybe to learn some new technical tricks for this years high-tech Christmas presents or something along that line.

So there you go.

You never know whom you might end up meeting.

Oh and my brother did get his cardboard box. And some string. To tie it. From Father Christmas. In July.