There wasn’t much for a man to do in the early 1800’s when he was caught red handed stealing a loaf of bread from Barrington’s stand. If he weren’t born into a family of wealth he would’ve been dealt with a completely different way.

He had everything handed to him, but the thrill of thievery always gave him a rush of adrenaline that he craved. Because of his families vast fortune Nick was never punished when he acted up. Often times he would spill wine on the ground just to watch his servants have to scurry over and clean it up.

He grew bored of this quickly.

It probably had something to do with the fact that he had a chance encounter with one of his servants and he found out quickly that money doesn’t buy loyalty.

Servants during this time weren’t what television and movie want you to believe they were. Sure, they were subservient to the rich and powerful, but they also came from the bowels of the cities where they were born. The people the rich spat on, and had beaten for looking at them funny, raised the servants that were now living in their quarters. To think they had their bosses best interests at mind is a completely erroneous thought.

Feeding them boiled lamb intestines as a holistic remedy that was handed down by generations is as preposterous a notion as believing Jimmy Hoffa is buried under the old Giants stadium.

Jimmy Hoffa is actually Jimmy Dean, look it up.

The chance encounter happened upon a night when Nick was sneaking around the estate. A victim of his own boredom, Nick took it upon himself to stir the pot and wake up the servants at the ungodly hour of 2 a.m. While he was walking by one of his father’s busts in the hallway he decided he would pick it up and smash it on the ground.

Suddenly a door flew open.

Clean it up, fool!

“Sir, I will do no such thing. I’m sick of your torment, you weasel”, said the Servant.

What did you just say.

Suddenly the servant grabbed a shard of the ceramic bust that was laying in pieces on the ground. He quickly advanced toward Nick and held it to his throat.

“You fucking ungrateful piece of garbage. My family slaves away hours a day to ensure your family is comfortable and well attended and this is the thanks I get. You’re no better than any one of us here. We all grace the earth and will end up a soulless body at one point in the future. I have the mind to dig this shard deep into your throat so you never see another day.”

I’m going to tell my father you’re doing this, Nick said in-between his sobs.

“I am your father”, the servant whispered in his ear.

Well this is unheard of. Why would my mother cheat on my father?

“You idiot!”

The servant then lights a candle on a nearby wall revealing his face.

FATHER! Why would you do such a thing?

“Because you’re spoiled and believe that things should be handed to you. It was time for you to learn a lesson and, plus, I really fucking loved that bust of me. You have to learn that things don’t just get handed to you, you have to take them. That’s how I got this fortune of mine, not by being some leech.”

Nick cried that night all the way into his room. As he laid in bed with tears streaming down his face he had an epiphany. He knew what his father had meant by having to take things.

On a snowy night Nick bundled himself up in about four layers of clothes, making him seem pudgier than his frame actually was. On top of that he threw on his favorite coat, a red one with white fur around the collar and sleeves.

As Nick made his way through the snow he had his sights on a small little cabin across the way.

The Barrington’s were his target once again, but this time it was for something much different.

Nick reached the cabin and tried all conventional means to enter it, but all passageways were locked. Despite the freezing cold the Barrington’s didn’t light their fireplace this night, Nick decided this would be the perfect entry point for him.

As he shimmied his way down he finally reached the bottom and was now in the small living quarters of the Barrington cabin. Nick surveyed the room and nothing immediately caught his eye so he continued to walk around the cabin looking for something to take, like his father had told him.

During his search Nick smashed his foot on an old wooden chair that didn’t give an inch to the impact. He let out a loud yell and quickly tried to muffled the shout, but it was too late the Barrington’s had already been woken up by the noise.

Nick began to scramble and had to act quickly so he started patting his jacket pocket for some sort of weapon in case he had to defend himself and that’s when he heard the rattle of coins in his pocket.

As Mr. Barrington rounded the corner he pointed a gun right at Nick.

HO! HO! HO! Nick said in a loud voice in an attempt to calm Mr. Barrington down.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?”

I – uh – I – uh

Nick then put out his hand to reveal the coins he had found in his pocket and Mrs. Barrington stepped out from behind her husband.

“He’s paying for the bread he stole from you! But that’s too much money!” Mrs. Barrington said.

No, please, take it all. I’m a changed man. I wanted to leave this for you as a surprise.

Smiles lit up the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Barrington as Nick secretly let out a sigh of relief because he was lying through his teeth.

“It’s a miracle! And Nick, you’re a saint!” Mrs. Barrington said.

“Maybe we can bury the hatchet. This was quite odd a way to ask for forgiveness, but still appreciated no matter the way you inteded.” Mr. Barrington followed.

I really should get going. And let’s keep this between us. It would be nice for your kids to wake up to a surprise.

Nick then walked out the front door and into the snow with the Barrington children watching from their window.

The kids then darted out of their room and to their parents who were standing in the small quarters embracing each other.

“Who was that?” The children said excitedly.

“St. Nick giving us another miracle on the day of our Lord’s birth.” Mrs. Barrington said.

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