For as many years as he could recall being conscious, Brumx had looked down longingly to the people far below the towering skyscraper upon he was perched, wishing he could be apart of their daily rituals. Unable to move from his hunched position, the ability these creatures had to move about of their own free will, was an ever tormenting sight for the poor statue. But no time of the year was more torturous then that of Christmas, when decorations were strung about not only upon the street lamps and windows below, but upon his very building, too. As well, the people seemed especially happier and kinder to one another, a joy Brumx was denied year after year, until he’d nearly given up all hope of experiencing it.

But throughout those countless years of watching the seasons pass without him, Brumx had never once had a negative or bitter thought. Because of this, one year an winged creature, much like him, yet different somehow, came to him and granted him the gift of life. As well, Brumx was granted the answer to any question he desired to be answered, a strange offering to the gargoyle, but a welcomed one none the less. Many questions passed through his mind, such as ’why was he allowed consciousness, yet was unable to move?’, ‘Why was he different from all the other creatures he beheld far below his structure?’ ‘What was he, were there more beings like him’?’ But the one thing that had always puzzled him the most was none of these queries, but one peculiar occurrence that happened every Christmas.

‘How do decorations get on brumx’s building?’ He asked in a gravely voice. For despite seeing the decorations year after year, he couldn’t remember once seeing just who had put them up so high. The angelic being who’d bestowed upon him life simply smiled warmly, and replied softly ‘Creatures such as you, Gargoyles, who have as well been granted life, put up these decorations ever year, though no one ever sees them.”
Brumxs heart soared “Creature like Brumx? Can he see them now? Where they be?” He asked excitedly, scarcely able to keep from jumping up and down upon legs, that though sturdy, were not quite used to motion yet, Again the being smiled, and nodded, taking Brumx by his overly large taloned hand, and gliding him away to where the other gargoyles resided.

‘If stone has a touch of life within it, however small, however fragmented, if a piece of the sculptures soul has touched it, it will eventually grow to be conscious. If that conscious is pure, if it is innocent and kind, and truly believes in the good within this world, it will be granted life at December’

And so it was Brumx became a Christmas gargoyle, a part of a entire clan of creatures who took much joy within the spirit of Christmas, and bringing that joy to others, city to city, all over the world.

~*~

When I was a kid, I happened upon a series of ornaments at a gift shop, featuring several different gargoyles with a Christmas theme. They were simply called ‘Christmas gargoyles’, and I think there was about 7 different ones, and though I wanted them all, I could only afford one. I chose a little perched gargoyle with a wreath in his mouth, hoping that next year I could come back and buy another. Unfortunately, the following Christmas they had all sold out, and nothing remained but the display base upon which each ornament was perched. I was pretty upset, and for the life of me, 15 years later, I’ve been unable to find them again.

I still have that little gargoyle, though he’s since lost his wreath (I know I have it somewhere, just can’t find it right now.) For many, many, MANY years I’ve imagine writing about a Christmas gargoyle, and though I intended to finally do that this year, I didn’t have enough time to do the whole story in detail. But all the same, I was happy I could get this much done in regards to it, and one of these days I’ll find the rest of those gargoyles, so my little guy won’t be alone anymore.