The Christmas Story Challenge

[Daisy]

Oma - you shouldn't worry about boring everyone. Your stories are SO readable. They're 'real' people and you have a light touch that is a real gift. More, more, more, please.

[Plantaholic]

I admire you ladies

[Nana]

Well done. I really enjoyed reading your stories.

[Grauntie Mag]

I think you should all submit these to a magazine, 👍🏻

[Daisy]

Since I'm such a grump about Christmas, I thought I should write about something nice - how a little boy regains his belief in Santa Claus.



TOMMY’S CHRISTMAS

Tommy was a smart kid. He knew a few things. He kept his eyes and ears open, especially when the grown ups were talking, so when his Gran said if he wasn’t a good boy Santa Claus wouldn’t bring him any presents he just laughed. “Don’t be silly, Gran. There’s no such thing as Santa Claus. It’s Mum and Dad who put the presents under the tree. I’ve heard them talking about it. “

In a cold northern clime far, far away, Jenni Elf was on listening duty. She was a good Elf listener and Santa Claus trusted her to find the children who thought he was their mums and dads. “Santa”, she reported back to him. “We have a problem with young Tommy in England. He thinks …” she drew in a deep breath, she hated even saying the words, “…he thinks you’re his Mum and Dad.”

Santa sighed. It was happening all the time, and this year it seemed worse then ever. Children with computers, tablets, phones and all sorts of electronic games thought they knew things, things they didn’t understand at all. “Well done, Jenni Elf”, he said patting her on the shoulder. “I’ll put Ernie Elf on the case. Would you brief him, please.”

“Yes, of course, Santa, right away”. Ernie Elf’s wrinkled brow furrowed deeply as Jenni Elf told him about Tommy. “He’s a good boy, really” Ernie Elf mused, his brow wrinkling even more. “In all the modern rush of life, he’s forgotten about magic. I’ll try and remind him.”

Tommy enjoyed school. Best of all he enjoyed playtimes when they could go outside and run round, laughing and shouting to each other. But today, Tommy was thoughtful. What if there really, really was a Santa and he didn’t get any presents. That would be … Tommy couldn’t think of a word to match the horror of waking up on Christmas morning and not seeing piles of brightly wrapped gifts under the tree. He decided he ask Darren what he thought. Darren was one of his very best mates. They were balancing with their arms outstretched along a wall dividing the hard playground from the garden part where they grew vegetables. “Daz” Tommy called out, “Do you believvvvvvve …. “ Tommy nearly toppled off the fence as he was distracted by the sight of what looked like a tiny old man, a bit like his Gran’s garden gnome, running behind the tool shed. In the effort to keep his balance the sentence died on the wind, and the whistle blew for lessons.

Mr Merryweather, was a bit like his name. Always smiling (unless you were very naughty) and lots of fun. Everyone wanted to have Mr M as their teacher. “Right”, said Mr M. “Today we are going to draw and paint a map. Imagine you are Santa Claus flying over your road looking for your house or flat. Give him as much help as you can with lots of detail, and make it nice and colourful.” “But, Sir”, Tommy’s hand shot up, “There is no …” Something stopped him. Just a strange feeling. He finished lamely …. “green paint on our table.” Mr M laughed. “Look again Tommy, it’s right next to Emily.” Tommy felt foolish, but cross with himself for not asking Mr M about Santa Claus.

He was still wondering how he could find out for sure when he got home. “Mum, can I go and call for Henry?” Henry lived two doors away and was in Year 6 - he would be sure to know. Tommy rang the bell at Henry’s and Henry and his little brother Simon answered the door. “Yay, Tommy” said Henry. “Come in. Si and me, we’re just finishing our letters to Santa Claus so we can post them to the North Pole tonight.” Tommy stopped with one foot over the doorstep. “Errrr….. no thanks. I’ve just remembered something …. see ya”.

He couldn’t risk it! He just couldn’t! He sat down with a sheet of his mum’s special writing paper. It smelt a bit funny, but he didn’t think Santa would mind too much. “Dear Santa Clors, I have been a very good boy and this is my Crismas list. I live here and we have got 2 chimnys you can youse.” He wrote his list in his very best handwriting, with a capital letter for each item. He even remembered to put a full stop at the end of each item. He drew a picture of a reindeer on the other side, and then remembered to turn it over again and put his name at the bottom. Twice, just to made sure Santa could read it.

His mum admired his beautiful letter and went with him to the letter box at the end of the road to post it to the North Pole. Tommy slept well that night despite torrential rain. His mind was at rest. The next morning we was woken by mum shouting to dad. “We’ve had a fall of soot in the dining room, Bob. Can you give me a hand to clear it up, please?” Tommy stood at the doorway and looked at the wet black mess all over the hearth. ‘What’s that, Dad?” Dad smiled. “Oh, it’s probably Santa’s elves checking out the chimney’s ok for Santa to come down on Christmas Eve.” Tommy didn’t see Dad wink at Mum.

Erni Elf ducked down below the window sill and made his way out of the garden. Everything was working out nicely.

The next day Gran picked Tommy up from school. “Had a good day, dear?” she asked. “Yeah,” replied Tommy. Gran tried again. “What did you do today then?” “Nothing much. We finished our maps so Santa can find our houses.” “Ah”, said Gran opening the car door for him. “So there is a Santa?” “Oh yes! Of course there is”. Gran smiled to herself and Tommy didn’t see her wink knowingly at Ernie Elf as he quietly slipped away back to the North Pole - another job well done.

[Clover]

Another lovely story Daisy. I don't know how you think them up so quickly
My mind went blank on a conventional story but I've written a poem instead!
I've posted it in the Poetry Thread.

[Daisy]

Clover, I love your poems. I wouldn't have a clue how to even start a poem. You are very talented. X

[Gemini]

Great story Daisy. I love reading your stories! I must get down to writing one!

[Gemini]

White Christmas

'What is a white Christmas?' Hannah asked her mother, catching the words of the song on the radio in the background. Her mother, Stephanie, looked up from the ironing. Oh, that means snow at Christmas' she replied, keeping her eye on the tricky collar that she was trying to get straight.
'It will be a white Christmas this year, won't it?' The little girl asked. 'Oh I don't know Hannah. It's a while away yet. It doesn't usually snow at Christmas you know, even though the Christmas cards tell us it does!'

Hannah was six years old. Old enough to remember past Christmases, but not to remember all the details. In her mind it did snow at Christmas. Of course it did. Children made snowmen, postboxes were always covered in snow and had robins sitting on top of them, and of course Father Christmas and his reindeers always arrived in the snow!

Mummy was usually right, but Hannah didn't think she was right about this.

She jumped down from the table where she had been drawing, and went to her bedroom. She looked though the books on her shelves and found three Christmas books. Yes, she knew she was right. One was about Father Christmas coming to a child on Christmas Eve. One was about woodland animals waiting for Christmas morning, and one about a family going out walking on Christmas Day. In every story there was snow. 'I knew it' thought Hannah. 'It always snows at Christmas, so we will have a white Christmas!

As the weeks went by, Hannah talked a lot about Christmas as all children do. She also talked a lot about the snowman she and daddy would make, and the sledging she would do on Christmas Day with mummy, daddy and her little brother Ben.

One December afternoon over coffee with her mum, watching 2 year old Ben playing with his trains, Stephanie said 'Has Hannah mentioned a white Christmas to you mum?'. 'Oh yes!' laughed Marian, 'all the time, she's determined we will have one!'. 'Yes she is agreed Stephanie, and I'm a bit worried that she will be so disappointed if it doesn't snow that it will spoil Christmas'. Marian looked concerned. 'Oh I hope not. Surely not, she has enjoyed every Christmas so far with no snow!'. 'Hmmmm, this year seems to be different' her daughter replied.
Hannah came home from school that afternoon with a lovely painting of their house decorated for Christmas, with of course, snow falling outside and a snowman in the garden. 'Our house at Christmas' she beamed showing her grandmother. 'That's lovely darling!' she exclaimed . 'It might not actually snow though'. Hannah just smiled.
Grandma didn't always know everything either.


On the morning of Christmas Eve, Marian arrived with Hannah and Bens presents. The children had gone to the cinema with their dad, to give their mum a chance to get on with things. As Marian helped her daughter hide the presents in the locked cupboard in the garage she said. 'Have you seen the forecast?'. 'I'm afraid so, no chance of snow over Christmas, not a flake'. 'I know it's not the same, but I bought this' said Marian, handing her daughter a canister of fake snow, and a foot stencil. 'You sprinkle it on the stairs and in the hallway, to make footprints anywhere that Santa might have walked. I saw it and thought it might help with Hannah. Hopefully she will believe it has snowed, but it melted quickly'. Thanks Mum! 'Said Stephanie, hugging her mother. That's a kind thought'.
Stephanie knew a little fake snow wasn't what her little girl had wished for and was expecting. Even the most loving parent or grandparent can't influence the weather however.

Eventually that night two small excited children fell asleep. Their stockings hung, Santas mince pie and milk waiting plus of course a large carrot for the reindeer.
Adam put his arm around his wife as she stood at the window looking into the clear sky. 'We will have lovely Christmas. Snow or no snow. When Hannah sees her presents, she won't even think about snow.' Stephanie hoped he was right. Somehow she couldn't believe it.

On Christmas morning Marian and John opened the door of their daughter's house. Wonderful smells greeted them, as did two very excited children both clamouring to tell them about what Father Christmas had brought.
Hannah gave her Granddad a lovely hug. 'I'm so happy Grandad!' the little girl said'. 'So am I' her grandfather replied. 'But just let me get these boots off. I am treading all this snow all over the floor!'

Hannah smiled. Mummy and Grandma weren't always right after all

[Daisy]

Aww, Gem, that story could have been my GD1 - I could hear her voice in Hannah's words. What a lovely story.

[Gemini]

Thank you Daisy. I am writing another one, I just can't get the ending. I think I will have to sleep on it!

[Daisy]

gem - sleeping on it often helps! I need to get my thinking cap on for another one.

[Gemini]

A different style of Christmas

Edith could remember happy Christmases.
As an only child, Christmas had been very special. She had lovely presents, everything she ever asked for and more. She always had a beautiful new Christmas dress to wear, and the best seats at the pantomime. She spent happy Christmas Days with her parents at home and Boxing Day with her cousins. She had all the privileges of an only child with parents who adored her, with the bonus of cousins for company, who she didn't have to share those parents with. Edith loved Christmas in those days.

Later, as a married woman, followed a year later by motherhood with the arrival of baby Alexander, Christmas was still enjoyable, in a different way. It did of course sadden her that her parents, who produced her late in life, were no longer around to enjoy their grandson. She felt this especially at Alexander's first Christmas. She missed them terribly then.
Christmases throughout her sons childhood were happy however. Edith adored her son and lavished as much love, attention and as many material goods on her him as her parents had on her. Unlike his mother Alexander had no cousins. Edith was of course an only child, and her husbands brother was childless. Edith felt rather guilty that as Alex had no cousins, he was often lonely with no siblings. When their son was 18 months old they had decided to 'try for another baby'. Nothing happened however, and eventually Edith stopped even thinking about having another child, and concentrated all her love and attention on her son.

Time passed, as time does. Alexander left school, went to university, graduated and got his first job many miles from home. Edith always hoped that eventually he would move closer to home. This wasn't to be. At work he met Josie, a beautiful Australian girl, fell in love and in no time married her and moved to Australia.

Once their son was settled into university life, his father told his mother that he was leaving her to live with the woman he had been having an affair with for 5 years! They had a 3 year old daughter. Edith was amazed and shocked, but she wasn't devastated or even particularly upset. She had known that they had been drifting apart for several years, and only Alex's presence at home served as the glue to hold them together.
She didn't really miss her husband at all. She wished him well in his new life, and he was certainly generous to her in the divorce settlement.

Alex too had a new life in Australia. New friends, new job, and Josie's large and friendly family. Edith loved him fiercely and always would, but didn't feel he was hers any more. He phoned or emailed his mother most weeks, when he had time, and they occasionally Skyped, but Edith didn't really feel she was any part of her sons life.

She felt this at Christmas more than ever. They sent her very nice presents (chosen she was sure by her daughter in law) They spoke on the phone on Christmas Day, but that was it.

Edith had tried several methods of coping with Christmas over the past few years.
She had holidayed aboard alone in the sun. She had gone to a Lake District hotel for a Christmas break with a single colleague, something neither of them wished to repeat. She had gone to various friends for Christmas dinner. One year she joined two of her friends, a female couple, on a walking holiday. None of these things made her enjoy Christmas, but rather endure it.
Edith suspected that it was that way for many people. She supposed she was lucky in having the memory of so many happy Christmases. In some ways though she felt this made it worse.

Each November friends started to ask the usual questions.

'What are your doing for Christmas?' - How she hated that question!

'Will you be seeing Alexander and your daughter in law?' - No, of course she wouldn't !

'Would you like to spend Christmas Day with us?' - No she wouldn't, but how to refuse such kindness!

This year she decided to take control. To try to arrange Christmas the way she chose before others, well meaning as they were, railroaded her into doing something she didn't really want to do.
The holiday in the sun hadn't worked. Christmas was still there, and she was still aware of being alone. The rest of the year she was perfectly happy being single and living alone. She loved her life, her home, her friends. For some reason Christmas was a different matter.

Hotels at home or away were not the answer. She would have to think of something else. Edith would in fact have been happy to stay at home, but none of her friends would hear of that. Even if she managed to persuade her friends that she wasn't going to be home alone, her dear friend and neighbour Rosie would know and insist she went over there. Rosie lived directly opposite Edith. With her boring husband and smelly dog. Christmas also included her elderly deaf mother for who's benefit everyone shouted, and her 3 grandchildren, all under 5. Edith had nothing against dogs, small children, or the elderly. She simply preferred not to spend Christmas Day with someone else's!
She booked a country cottage from December 24th to 28th. She considered herself lucky to find anywhere so nice in November. A cancellation, unlucky for someone else, was her good fortune.
There she could have as much Christmas as she wanted and no more. Enjoy the TV Christmas specials and films, some wine, Baileys and other treats, but not do anything she didn't want to just because it was Christmas and it was expected. Stocked with nice food and drink, DVDs and her Kindle loaded with good reading, she set off.
As far as friends and neighbours were concerned, she was spending Christmas with an old school friend.

The cottage was beautiful. A tiny tastefully decorated one bedroomed property. The owners had converted one cottage into a pair of small semi detached ones, perfect for couples or single holidaymakers, like Edith. Warm and cosy, with a holly wreath on the front door and inside a small Christmas tree in a red pot, lit and decorated.
Edith arranged her Christmas cards around the living room and piled her presents under the tree. She changed into her warm fleecy dressing gown, and with a contented smile settled down to watch TV in front of the log burning stove, with a large glass of merlot in hand.



*********************************************


To alexh739@hotmail.com from edithhall@gmail.com

Hi Alex,

Happy New Year!

Sorry I haven't been available to talk recently. Christmas was most unusual and unexpected! My neighbour in the adjoining holiday cottage had a plumbing crisis and came knocking at my door early on Christmas morning . He had no heating or water, and no plumbers will come out on December 25th, not without kings ransom anyway! George, a lovely man ended up coming to me to share the warmth of my cottage . He slept on the sofa that night. We spent the rest of Christmas getting to know each other.
He is divorced and has found Christmases alone hard. We have lots in common. I'm having fun, talk to you when I have more time, not sure when that will be!
Love to Josie

Love you, your Mum! xx

THE END

[Daisy]

Wonderful, Gem. I didn't see the end until it came - I'd rather thought her son might somehow have made a surprise visit! I like how the ending came in an email.


I'm still trying to think up another one.

[Gemini]

Thanks Daisy.
I didn't know how it would end. I didn't really want it to be seeing her son, although that was the obvious ending. I sent her away to her lonely cottage not knowing what happened next, then George popped up!

I realised that Ediths name changed to Enid part way through the story, so I have edited it now!!