A Carol

He sat with his legs pulled up to his chest. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Hey Beanpole?" The Lorax asked him. "You're lookin' a little better today kid."

The young man smiled at the creature. His deep blue eyes held sadness.

"It's okay kid. You don't need to talk."

Once-ler smiled. He tilted the book towards the Lorax.

"You want me to read to you kid?" He asked.

Once-ler nodded weakly his voice still gone. His nearly paper thin body slid back under the covers. His eyes still held dark circles.

The Lorax began to read. "Marley was dead as a door nail. . ."

To Once-ler's surprise, the Lorax was a wonderful storyteller.

His dulled eyes looked at the creature trying his hardest to cheer him with the spirit of the season.

He looked outside to the snow covered hills of Truffula Valley.

It had only been a few weeks since his diagnosis and two years since the start of his business. He noticed the absence of trees and the absence of the usual abundance of snow. There was enough, though, to cover the remaining Truffula Trees and the still grassy hills. They were all covered with a fine blanket of white snow.

The tree's tufts changed into beautiful light blues that were nearly white. Each tree was flecked with silver and gold. The Tufts were perhaps more beautiful now than ever.

The Lorax read the human story of greed and redemption aloud to the struggling young man. He thought that it might be prudent to give this book to Once-ler's mother. He certainly hoped other "Ghosts of Christmas Present" might find his Beanpole still here.

It wasn't surprising to him that Beanpole was asleep by the time he finished telling the story.

He snuggled up next to Beanpole. He wasn't happy that his young friend would have to spend his Holiday in a hospital. He knew though that he would be here to read that hallowed tale to his little business man whenever it was needed. For as long as he could stay, he would be here for him.

. . .

Years later he saw Beanpole was now a guardian, like the Lorax himself. This young man who struggled so became the guardian of Hope. Ghosts and spirits of the past and present and future looked to him with a smile. The other guardians looked to him as though he were more special for his survival than any other guardian.

The Once-ler in his guardian form was returned to his youth. His black hair was still as messy as when he was a young man. He sat with a child no older than four on his lap. She was being screamed at by her mother. Once-ler had felt pity for her and revealed himself upon Christmas night. There they read stories together. She had requested his timeless fable and on cue he began to read.  

The book became a tool for him in his new role presented to him by the Lorax.

The creature never forgot that night. He could never forget it and he would never forget it. He could never erase the image of the young man's toothpick like arms resting atop the cover of that book.

He could never forget the image of the ghostly face of "Tiny Tim" resting his hand atop the cover of A Christmas Carol.