The Small Boy and the Three Aliens

'Shove over - I can’t see!' the shortest alien whispered, as they crouched behind the tropical shrub. It was always like this. Every world they visited, he was the one at the back - the one who only got to see the tops of the heads of the Vernons of Snood, or the left elbows of the Trinkonians, or the tips of the noses of the Elephant Fiddlers of Sirus 9. 'What are they doing now?'

The three aliens had travelled far, gathering material for the report on festivals they were giving at an upcoming conference on Extra-Terrestrial Studies. They'd spent the long hot day observing the Earth Rite of Christmas. It had been fascinating. As the small Humans squealed and splashed in the ocean, the large Humans had laid themselves out on the beige sand, carefully turning their skin festive shades of red and exchanging traditional greetings of the season:

'Hot enough for you?'

'Beats shovelling snow, eh?'

'Two feet deep back home - glad I’m not there!'

Now it was night, and the aliens had learned everything they needed to know. The Humans had gone indoors, and the moon was bright in the sky. The aliens smiled. This was a happy festival and they particularly liked happy festivals. But then they heard a sound that did not fit.

Someone was crying.

Someone was sad.

The aliens knew from their research that this was not traditional.

They came out of hiding and approached a small boy who was sitting at the edge of the ocean, squidging sand between his toes and sobbing quietly.

The aliens greeted him in the traditional manner:

'Hot enough for me?'

'Beats shuppelling, no?'

'My feet are back home – glad I’m not you!'

'You’re funny!' said the small boy with a watery grin, but then he sighed. 'Sorry if that sounded rude. It’s nice of you to try to cheer me up.'

'Why are you sad? It is not traditional.'

The small boy sniffed. 'I miss home. I miss the snow. I hate having to come here for Christmas.'

'We're away from home too,' said the shortest alien. 'It is sad, sometimes.' He whispered to the other aliens and then he said, 'Will you excuse us?'

The small boy nodded, and went on squidging sand with his toes and being sad. But then, after a while, he heard a sound.

Wheeeeee...

Where was it coming from? He looked left and right, along the beach. Nothing. He looked out to sea, but the waves that rolled from the far horizon right up to the tips of his toes were empty too.

And then he looked up -

- and saw a spaceship. It was decorated all over with fairy lights, tinsel and plastic holly. The words 'Mary Christmas Small Boy!' flashed on and off along the hull in alternating red and green neon. And towed along on water skis behind the spaceship was the shortest alien, wearing a Santa suit.

'WHEEEEEEE...' he squealed in delight. He flew through the air at great speed, doing 360s and somersaults and leaps. Half the time he was skiing upside down.

'WHE-HEEEE!'

'Wow,' said the small boy, waving wildly, and the smile on his face was as wide as the sky. 'Wow.'