I only get to visit Earth a few weeks a year, so I make the most of my time. I do the big things of course: Macy’s Day Parade, lighting of the tree at Rockefeller Center, Hyde Parks Winter Wonderland. One year I helped convince a miser to change his ways. But my favorite part is the little destinations. That’s where I was today.
There was an elementary class visiting a nursing home. The kids all sang Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,Frosty the Snowman and Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Then they walked around and delivered handmade cards with reindeer whose antlers were made by tracing their little hands.
Most of the residents were tickled to see the kids. Frank Vincent stayed locked in his room. He had no interest in looking at youth he would no longer have again. His own kids rarely brought the grandkids to visit him, he didn’t need to see other kids. Everyone here was waiting to die, parading a bunch of singing kids didn’t change that.
I knocked on his door carrying a tray of gingerbread cookies. He refused to take one but when I sat in the chair beside his bed instead of leaving, I noticed him eyeing the plate.
“Can’t smell gingerbread without thinking about Christmas,” I said. I picked up a cookie and bit off its head.
He grunted.
“They’re the best cookie,” I tried again.
“My mother made them every year.”
“It’d be a shame to let them go to waste.” I held out the plate.
His hand hovered over the plate before he took a cookie and nibbled. “They taste just like my mother’s. She always let my brother and I help, even though we did more helping than eating.”
We kept eating. With each cookie he told me another story about the magic of his childhood Christmases, then the Christmas he proposed to his wife, and later stayed up late to put together toys for the kids.
When there was nothing, but crumbs left, I got up to leave.
I have been good all year. I want a hippopotamus for Christmas. Only a hippopotamus will do.
Your Friend,
Ally Burrows
P.S. Say i hto the reindeer.
Two Weeks Later
Ally bound into her parents’ room at the crack of dawn. “It’s Christmas! You said I could get up when it’s light and it’s light!”
She pulled on her parents’ hands and dragged them out of bed. Her enthusiasm chased away her grogginess.
They got to the top of the stairs and froze. Ally’s eyes filled with tears and her lips quivered. “He didn’t bring anything. But I was good.”
“Of course you were sweetheart,” her mother said, “it must be a mistake.”
“Maybe he’s running late.” her father said.
Ally pointed to the empty plate and glass and shook her head. Santa ate the cookies and milk, then left without leaving any gifts.
“It looks like he left a note,” Mrs. Burrows said.
I had some difficulty delivering Ally’s gift. I couldn’t stay to fix it because I had other houses to visit. You can send your chimney repair bill to the North Pole.
Santa
Mr. and Mrs. Burrows looked at each other in confusion, then ran out the door with Ally trailing them. They stood on the lawn with their heads tilted back looking up at the chimney.
“It looks like something’s stuck up there, but I can’t tell what it is,” Mrs. Burrows said.
“The ice has melted; it should be safe to take a look. I’ll grab a ladder from the shed and investigate.”
Mr. Burrows propped the ladder against the house and was on the second step when there was a loud crash, and bricks rained down on them. Mr. Burrows fell to the ground and Mrs. Burrows shielded Ally from the bricks.
When the brick shower ended Ally’s mom helped her dad get up and they pushed the front door open together. They both let out shrieks, and Ally pushed around them to see.
“What is that thing doing in my house?” her mother shouted.
Ally ducked between her parents and scurried through the front door.
“It’s my hippopotamus!!! Santa didn’t forget me; he brought me what I asked for.”
“Your what? Why would you ask Santa for a hippopotamus?”
“I thought you wanted a dollhouse, why did you ask for a hippopotamus?”
“Oh Daddy, isn’t it obvious? I like hippopotamuses and they like me.”
Welcome to my 12 Stories of Christmas writing challenge. I decided to throw in a more serious story for today.
Santa Ornament
London, 1944
The soldier looked at the decorations in the shop window and wished he could be home for Christmas. His little girl, Suzy, was two last time he was home for Christmas. Now she would be four. Would she even recognize him? He stepped in the shop hoping to find a special gift that she would always remember.
As he browsed the items in the store, he thought of what Christmas would be like if it wasn’t for this abominable war. Suzy was the perfect age for Christmas magic. If he was home, he would be playing Santa. Marion would hold their daughter in her arms and let her peek around the corner to see him putting gifts under the tree.
The soldier was pulled from his fantasy by a glass Santa ornament. That was it. If he couldn’t be Santa, he would send Santa to her.
Chicago, 1967
“Mommy, tell me the story!”
Sue sat in the chair and pulled her daughter into her lap. “Once upon a time, when I was a little girl, Grandpa Joe was far away at Christmas. He wanted to be with us, but he knew it was more important to make the world safe for us. So, he had to stay and stop the bad people. Even though he had to be so far away, he wanted me to know he was thinking about me, so he sent this special Santa ornament.”
“And every year we put it on the tree and you remember how much Grandpa Joe loves you.”
Chicago, 2025
When Becky saw the look on the nurse’s face, she knew this was one of her mother’s bad days. There were more bad days than good now. Becky sent the nurse on a break.
Becky sighed and put a box on the table. “Mom, I thought we’d decorate the tree today.”
Suzy looked at her with blank eyes, “Do I know you?”
Becky blinked away tears and patiently introduced herself to her mother. She told stories of their Christmases growing up while she unboxed the decorations. The stories usually triggered Sue’s memories and she would return. Not today. Becky gave up and focused on getting her to help decorate. Sue sat in her recliner and turned her back away from the tree to watch some birds at the feeder.
Becky took out the last ornament and knelt in front of her mother. Sue took the glass Santa ornament from her hand and held it up. She stared at the ornament andtear ran down her cheek.
At approximately 10:30 the victim, Mildred Nelson, was crossing Frost Blvd when she claims she was struck by a sleigh driven by the suspect, Christopher Cringle.
Mildred Nelson’s Statement:
“I was on my way to Sue’s Sweetshop to buy candy for my twenty grandchildren when a bright red light hit my eyes. I became disoriented and couldn’t move. Next thing I knew, a herd of reindeer dropped from the sky and knocked me to the ground.”
Christopher Cringle’s Statement:
“My flying reindeer and I were delivering presents to kids. Comet, one of the reindeer, is suffering from an inner ear infection, and the flying was bringing on vertigo. He requested a landing. Rudolph spotted an empty street and descended. Just as we touched down, a woman with white hair stepped off the curb without looking. I directed Rudolph to turn his red nose in their direction so that she would notice him, but she stopped in the middle of the intersection.”
Ruling: Based on two sets of irrational claims, a drug screening was conducted on both parties. Both showed high levels of drugs used for the treatment of high blood pressure and cholesterol. It was determined that the combination of these medications consumed with egg nog and then combined with the shock of the accident resulted in hallucinations. No formal charges were made, but Mr. Cringle was issued a warning.
“Can I play?” It was the first day of school and Rudolph couldn’t wait to join in the reindeer games.
“No, you freak!”
“This game is only for reindeer with normal noses.”
“Go find your own kind.”
Rudolph put his head down and slipped away before the other reindeer saw him cry. It wasn’t his fault that his nose was red. He was born that way. It wasn’t fair.
Rudolph tried a few more times, but the other reindeer always responded the same way. He learned to avoid others and keep his head low. He pretended it didn’t hurt when they made comments about his nose. In time, they left him alone for a while. Then came Click Clop. They posted pictures of him photoshopped with a red curly wig and giant shoes to go with his “clown nose”. Everywhere he went, people laughed and called him names.
So, he stopped going anywhere. Rudolph stayed in his house. Every Christmas Eve, he watched them take flight. The reindeer who had brought him nothing but misery were revered for carrying joy to little kids everywhere.
Then, one Christmas Eve, he couldn’t see through the fog to watch the flight. The view from the window was pure white. He gave up and settled into a game of solitaire. An unfamiliar sound called him from his game. It took a moment for him to recognize it as a knock on the door. He opened the door to find Santa and eight tiny reindeer.
“Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide our sleigh tonight?”
“No, you’ve been nothing but mean to me,” Rudolph said and slammed the door in their face.
The kids didn’t get any gifts that night, but they did learn a valuable lesson about bullying.
The writer sits staring at the blank screen. She looks around the room for inspiration. Two Christmas trees and a mantal full of Christmas knick knacks give her nothing. What was she thinking? Twelve stories of Christmas.
She is full of ideas which with time and nurturing would develop into great stories. But, there was little time for revision. These ideas must be quick and efficient stories to write. A haiku might work, she thinks. But, she didn’t say twelve poems, she said stories. A haiku won’t cut it.
Then, inspiration
She won’t just write a haiku
She’ll add some prose too
This is perfect, the writer realizes. She could write a few lines, count a few syllables and she’d be ready to post. Then she can focus on other Christmas activities.
The reindeer’s red nose
Guides Santa’s sleigh through fog
Can’t disappoint kids
Long ago baby
Brought hope for peace to the world
Jesus Christ was born
Girls’s out of his league
But she’s under mistletoe
He can steal a kiss
That should do it. The writer formats the post, and schedules the post. She’s off to bed where visions of holiday stories will dance in her head. Six more to go.
Thanks for stopping by my 12 stories of Christmas challenge. I wanted to experiment with different formats, and this seemed like a perfect way to poke a little fun at the formulaic Hallmark Christmas Movies, which I watch religiously every year.
Hallmark Movie Recipe
Ingredients:
One Grumpy Character (GC)
One Perky Christmas Lover (PCL)
Child with a single parent
Puppy
Small Town
Combination of at least three winter/holiday customs: (examples: skating, baking, skiing, sledding, building snowmen, decorating, cutting down tree, ice sculptures, drinking, ugly sweaters, hot chocolate)
Directions:
Preheat the oven at 200 for a low heat romance
While the oven heats, prep the characters, by creating a scenario where the GC returns to their small town from a big city
Create a meet-cute dough for the GC and the PCL characters will hate each other
Mix in puppy and child to your taste
Roll out dough and divide into scenes where GC and PCL discover they have similarities
Add to heated oven fueled by a disaster which threatens to ruin Christmas celebrations. GC and PCL will need to work together to overcome the heat and save Christmas. Movie is ready when the GC has discovered the meaning of Christmas
Top with a love declaration between GC and PCL which results in GC moving out of the city to the small town
Suggested optional toppings:
An ex or boss who shows up to convince the GC to return to the big city
Kindly old man with a white beard who is secretive about his job
Royalty from a fictional country
Christmas themed competition
Parent who can no longer run the family business and needs GCs help
Santa was nodding off when the TV ad caught his attention.
“Are you tired of making deliveries or paying someone else? We have the product for you: delivery Drones!”
A drone carrying a box flew across the screen. Then it lowered and dropped the box on someone’s doorstep. A man stepped out and looked up. “Thanks, delivery drones. I would’ve waited another week to get this package from the post office.”
A series of drones delivering various sized packages flitted across the screen. “With our delivery drones, you’ll never have to deliver your own packages again.”
Santa jumped out of the chair, knocking over the plate of cookies on his lap. “That’s it!”
Mrs. Clause sprang into the room to see what was the matter.
“My problems are over. If I get these delivery drones, I won’t have to bring the gifts anymore.”
“But what about the reindeer what will they do?”
“They’ll be fine. I’ll give them a generous retirement package. I think they’ll be relieved, honestly. We can’t keep up at this pace. Do you know with the blizzard delay last year, do you know what our total hours came to? 25 hours. We worked 25 hours in only a year’s time. We can’t keep up this pace.”
Santa was drifting asleep when the TV ad caught his attention.
“Are you tired of making deliveries or paying someone else? We have the product for you: delivery Drones!”
A drone carrying a box flew across the screen. Then it lowered and dropped the box on someone’s doorstep. A man stepped out and looked up. “Thanks, delivery drones. I would’ve waited another week to get this package from the post office.”
A series of drones delivering various sized packages flitted across the screen. “With our delivery drones, you’ll never have to deliver your own packages again.”
Santa jumped out of the chair, knocking over the plate of cookies on his lap. “That’s it!”
Mrs. Clause sprang into the room to see what was the matter.
“My problems are over. If I get these delivery drones, I won’t have to bring the gifts anymore.”
“But what about the reindeer what will they do?”
“They’ll be fine. I’ll give them a generous retirement package. I think they’ll be relieved, honestly. We can’t keep up at this pace. Do you know with the blizzard delay last year, do you know what our total hours came to? 25 hours. We worked 25 hours in only a year’s time. We can’t keep up this pace.”
When the big day arrived, all the North Pole residents gathered around for the launch. There hadn’t been this much excitement since Rudolph’s first flight. At midnight Santa hit the launch button to cheers. A fleet of drones took off grasping bags with toys for their territory.
To celebrate, they all started singing, “Here comes Santa Drones”.
Five minutes later, Santa’s phone rang, and the person started talking before he even said hello. “It’s Maria with the aviation department. Mr. Claus, what’s going on? We’ve cleared our flights for your usual path, but there seem to be drones launching from the North Pole.”
“Yes, we’re switching it up this year. Trying something new. You know going with the times. Can’t stop progress and all that.”
“Sir, you need to give us notice on these things. Your drones are disrupting our flight paths. I’m going to have to ask you to call them back and use the reindeer.”
“We don’t have enough reindeer power to make the flight. Dancer is visiting his cousin in Alaska, and Dasher has hockey tickets. You’ll have to reroute your flights. We can send you the drone paths.”
“No, you are going to have to call this off. It’s too dangerous.”
“We can’t disappoint all of those kids. Maria, I remember the Christmas you asked for a Cabbage Patch doll. How would you have felt if it wasn’t under the tree?”
“Send the flight information. But you’re on our list now, you won’t get a second chance if something like this happens again.”
Toby rushed the list over to air control, and they gave him access to their monitors so they could both reroute as necessary. Santa stayed up all night helping, and they brought Rudolph in for guidance.
Santa stumbled home early the next morning after the final drone had returned. Mrs. Claus was waiting up for him, just like every other Christmas morning. “How did it go?” she asked.
“It worked out once we figured out the flight paths.”
“It’ll be better next year now that the airports know. You won’t have to work so late.”
I’ve seen many posts suggesting that parents wrap book
s to put under the tree and open one each night. So, I thought I’d share some suggestions. I’m starting with six of my favorite older picture books to read around this time of year. Then six newer ones I want to add to my library.
Welcome to the third installment of my 12 stories of Christmas. This was inspired by my dislike of a certain Christmas Carol for it’s promotion of rude behavior. The basic idea came from one the writing prompts at our B &N writing group. I reworked it for this challenge. It’s not to late to share your own stories in the comments.
Christmas Carol Law
My hair refused to cooperate. It was as though the rebellious follicles knew that I was in a hurry. I gave up and grabbed a headband with snowflakes. It would have to do for tonight.
Will was pacing in the living room when I came downstairs. He glance at the clock, but knew better than to comment on my tardiness when he saw the headband. The performance of A Christmas Carol started at 7 PM. We would make it with a few minutes to spare. He just liked to be early so he could stop at the concession stand.
The doorbell rang and Will grumbled.
“Don’t be such a Scrooge. It’s carolers. We have time for a song,” I told him.
I opened the door to a burst of cold air and a melody of Christmas. We listened to the song and then explained that they were wonderful but we had someplace to be.
The carolers shoved us aside and burst through the door. Will repeated that we had somewhere to be in a firm voice. Then they sang the second verse again. We looked at each other in horror as realization dawned.
We tried shooing them out, but they stubbornly refused to leave until we gave them what they wanted.
“We don’t have what you’re looking for,” I said.
“No! We did our part, we sang the song, now you know what you have to do yours,”
“My wife just told you. We don’t have it. You need to leave.”
Rick grabbed the lead and pulled him toward the end of the door, but the man broke through.
“That’s it! I’m calling 911” I said.
A tiny woman with short, white hair stepped forward and crossed her arms. “Go for it, the law’s on our side.”
We stood glaring at each other, waiting for the cops to arrive. We watched in horror while strangers took over our home. Some of the guys turned on the game. They sat on the couch and put their dirty boots on the coffee table.
A woman spread out blankets on the floor. “Kids it’s almost bedtime. It looks like we’re going to be here for a while, so go brush your teeth.“
They were oblvious to our protests. Finally we just gave up and huddled in a corner. Finally, we heard sirens and a police officer rapped on the door.
I answered, and before I could explain to officer the carolers jumped in and started giving their side. The cop stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled for everyone to stop. We all froze in place. He pointed to me and asked me to talk first.
“These carolers came into our home and are refusing to leave even though we’ve asked several times.”
He nodded and took notes. Then asked the lead caroler to tell their side.
“I’m sorry ma’am you know what the song says. These people wished you a Merry Christmas. Now, they have the right to stay in your home until you give them figgy pudding.”
