Are you ready to hear a story?

This one's about some roo-cee-lin animals that go on an adventure with a friend of Santa's.

Pee-wee's Kiwi Christmas by Murray Rutledge.

Pee-wee, the fluffy brown Kiwi bird, squeezed out through his burrow into the cool night air.

He looked to the night sky to where the four stars of the Southern Cross twinkled overhead

and to the left the two pointer stars.

Beneath them far away past the horizon lay the South Pole.

This is where Pee-wee belonged.

Beneath the Southern Cross in New Zealand, the land of the long white cloud in the Pacific Ocean,

way down at the bottom of the world.

There was no long white cloud tonight though.

The sky was clear.

The moonlight beamed over the thick bush-clad valley in hills.

It was nearly mid-summer.

There were lots of bugs and insects in the forest, plenty of food.

It was a good time to be a Kiwi, a happy Kiwi.

Across the valley, Pee-wee called out to his mates.

Pee-wee.

There was scratch and fluff and tiny and peaky.

The other Kiwis called back.

Pee-wee.

Miss Ruru and Morpork called out Morpork together from their home high in the Calgary tree,

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