The Most Beautiful Gift Read Online Free PDF Page A

the known earth to the other.
    “One day, he was summoned before the king. The wizard hurried to the palace, where the sovereign asked him to devise a miraculous
     invention: the spirit of Christmas. ‘During this season, everyone is a much better person,’ began the king. ‘The people love
     one another. Evil and malice do not exist. I want you to come up with a potion that will make Christmas last three hundred
     and sixty-five days a year.’
    “Buffello bowed to the king, returned to his laboratory, and went straight to work. He consulted his volumes on both white
     and black magic, but he soon realized they weren’t going to be of any help. He then began to collect herbs and other ingredients:
     an early fig plucked from the plant during a full moon; a mandrake root yanked from the earth on a Friday with an even-numbered
     date; bullfrog saliva; albino snail slime; and many other wizardly things. He threw everything into a cauldron, left it to
     boil for almost an entire day, and then tried out the result on himself. The first time he tasted themixture, he turned into a pea green bat; the second time, into a Bengali tiger; the third time, into a yellow dwarf with
     a huge hunchback. He struggled to come up with an antidote as quickly as possible in order to return to his old self, and
     after several attempts, he succeeded.
    “Despite his failure, he refused to give up. He prepared another thousand potions, another hundred elixirs, but none of these
     produced the desired effect. On one occasion, he succeeded in ridding himself of all the calluses on his right foot—a bit
     of good luck, but not exactly what the king had ordered. One day, when he was feeling more desperate than usual, and was immersed
     in multicolored smoke and sparkling fire bursts, his grandson, Buffetto, paid him a visit. He was just a little boy, but he
     had a firm head on his shoulders and a tongue that could talk a mile a minute.
    “‘Grampa, what are you making?’ asked his grandson, peering into an incessantly boiling cauldron.
    “‘Leave me alone, Buffetto,’ replied the wizard as he added an azure dust to the contents ofone of his test tubes. ‘If I don’t succeed in this project, the king will get very angry. He might even relieve me of my
     duties as court sorcerer.’
    “Buffetto took a look around him. He had never seen a laboratory in such disorder. ‘C’mon, Grampa,’ he urged. ‘What did our
     sovereign want you to do?’
    “‘He wanted me to create the spirit of Christmas,’ replied Buffello impatiently, ‘so that all the people will be good the
     whole year long, not just one day a year.’
    “Buffetto stared at his grandfather and burst out laughing. ‘Oh, but that is impossible!’
    “‘What do you mean, impossible?’ demanded the wizard, while emptying the contents of a still into a pot. ‘For me, nothing
     is impossible!’
    “The boy continued to laugh, then regained his breath. ‘Sure it is! It is an absurd undertaking!’
    “Buffello sat down, utterly discouraged. Maybe his grandson had a point. He had dedicated many days to his invention but—aside
     from curing his calluses—nothing good had come of it.
    “‘What can I do, then?’ he asked in desperation. ‘I can’t go back to the king empty-handed! He would chase me away! He might
     even send me into exile!’
    “Buffetto looked around him and thought about it for a few seconds. ‘There might be a way.’ He scratched his chin with the
     tip of his finger. ‘Now then …’
    “The next day, the wizard presented himself at the palace. He was carrying a large sack. ‘Welcome back, Buffello,’ the sovereign
     greeted him. ‘So, did you succeed in finding the spirit of Christmas?’
    “‘Yes, my sire, I have it right inside here,’ replied the wizard.
    “‘Good, well, what are you waiting for?’
    “Buffello nodded, clutched the sack with both hands, turned it upside down and out came … nothing! Absolutely nothing, not