The Christmas Story Challenge 2017

[Clover]

Oma I’m sure that picture of a family Christmas is replicated in many a home I really enjoyed your story.

[Plantaholic]

Really good Oma, I felt I was there sharing that hectic day, well done

[Daisy]

Oma - I loved your story. I laughed out loud at Doug's mother and her narrow escape from choking on a pea, Auntie Babs screaming over the escaped hamster, and the dog stealing the sprouts (we used to have a dog who loved sprouts - raw!). I can just picture Molly the 14 year old bored Goth, and the look her mum gave her. It's all so brilliant and just how families are. I hope this year Christmas goes smoothly for them!

Mimi - here's hoping you get your inspiration.

I'm still rewriting mine!

[Gemini]

I'm writing another but have got a bit stuck!!

[Gemini]

Holly Cottage

When Julia and Ray Palmer moved into Holly Cottage three days before Christmas, everyone remarked how lucky that was.
Julia had no idea why they said this, but five years later, she had seen little evidence to support the statement.
The cottage itself was lovely. They had done a lot of work on it, transforming a tiny run down house with draughty windows and no central heating, to a larger and very smart and comfortable home.The holly bush to match the name of the house still thrived in the front garden.

Their home excepted,everything seemed to have gone wrong during those five years.
The company that Ray worked for went bust. He found another job eventually, but for some time it was hard, with all the expenses of the renovations to the cottage.
Julia's credit card was cloned, which caused much distress and inconvenience.
Then things got even worse. Ray's mother died suddenly of a heart attack. Three weeks later Julia had her first miscarriage.
That summer, feeling the need of a healing break after the losses, Julia and Ray booked a holiday in the Maldives.
The holiday wasn't quite as wonderful as the brochures suggested. Then the airline lost their luggage.
Life just didn't seem to allow the couple to breath or relax for long before something else happened.

It had been almost three years since that first miscarriage, and in that time they had lost two more babies.
They spent a lot of time in clinics and seeing obstetricians and fertility experts.. The sad conclusion was that Julia would never be able to carry a pregnancy to term.
Whenever one of her friends announced a pregnancy, or showed off a new baby Julia was always happy for them. Part of her died a little each time though, just wishing it could be her turn.
In time Julia had to come to terms with the fact that she would never carry or give birth to a baby. She wasn't happy about it, she didn't think it was fair, but she had to accept it, for her own sanity.
She was healthy, and loved, and had a lovely home and most things that she wanted, so, although never forgetting her lost babies, she moved on.

Throughout the following summer, Julia began to feel happier and more at peace with the world.

By autumn, she felt more positive and more settled than she had for a very long time. With December her thoughts turned to Christmas. 'This one will be a good one' she decided.
'We will make the cottage look fabulous, inside and out. We will socialise and celebrate, and just throw ourselves into this festive season. Time to look forward, not back!!'

On the morning of December 23rd Julia picked up the Christmas mail from the doormat. The number of envelopes had really slowed down now that Christmas was almost here. Ignoring the two Christmas cards and the camping holiday brochure, she seized the other envelope.

That evening Ray came home from work, and kissed his wife. 'You look happy darling! Good day?'
'Excellent day', Julia replied and pointed to the Christmas tree, a huge smile on her face. 'What?' laughed Ray.
'The present'
'Yes, I see lots of presents'
'That one on it's own, at the front. That's an early one. I want you to open it now'
Feeling slightly bemused, Ray reached down for the box and unwrapped the large red parcel with gold stars on it. Inside was a smaller white box.
'Open it! Julia urged.
Ray did so, and inside he found an envelope. 'It's like Pass The Parcel!' he joked.
Seeing the look on his wife's face, he hurried to open the envelope.
A huge grin lit up Rays face.
Yippee!' he cried
'Just in time for Christmas', said Julia 'What perfect timing! Our daughters adoption certificate will be the best Christmas present'.
'Indeed it will' smiled Ray, pulling both Julia, and baby Grace who was smiling up at him from her mothers arms, into a loving hug.

[Oma]

Aww that is so sweet Gem I didn't expect the ending

[Oma]

It was Christmas eve , Charlotte had had a very busy day in the shop , everyone looking for that last present ,
Judith one of her assistants had been at the wrapping station all day her fingers sore from several paper cuts , was Now putting everything back in its place ,
Jimmy the delivery boy and Reg the Driver were sweeping up the stock room both singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio .

This year had been good for business not like the last few years when at several points she thought she might have to shut up shop and let her staff go ,
Shall I put the kettle on Boss? said Judith Yes please said Charlotte we will have a quick cupper before we cash up .

Just then the shop door opened and a tall striking looking man in his mid 30s came in , Smiling Charlotte asked if she could help him with anything
No Mam he said in a deep southern drawl I'm just browsing for now if that's ok with you ,
Yes of course please feel free

Judith was making dramatic swooning impressions behind his back and Charlotte was trying hard not to laugh

OMG said Judith all my Christmases have came at once he's gorgeous ,
Does he remind you of anyone asked Charlotte I have a feeling I have seen him before !!
You got to be kidding me said Judith I wouldn't forget him if I had seen him before , be still my beating heart ,
Laughing she went to put the kettle on but kept peeking out to look at him ,

After some time he asked for her help choosing a silk scarf , Is it for a special lady ? asked Charlotte

Kind of he said I'm hoping to visit with someone my Father got to know a long time ago when he worked in England , He passed on last year and made me promise to contact her ,
Oh I'm sorry for your loss I hope you get to see her over the holidays and your meeting is enjoyable ,
With that Charlotte wrapped the scarf in a pretty box and he left thanking her .

She locked the shop door behind him and put the closed sign up , Judith and the men had Coffee and some special cakes Charlotte had bought ,
Judith chatted on about who he could be and who was he visiting , Charlotte was only half listening she couldn't get it out of her head that she had seen him before .

Two hours later Charlotte was in the kitchen helping her Mum with the Sprouts and all of the rest of the trimmings ready for Christmas dinner tomorrow , Toby her husband was setting the table and there Daughter and the cat were curled up on the sofa reading a book together , well the poor cat had no choice he was being held down by their 4 year old but he was quite patient and didn't kick up a fuss .

Charlotte always loved being in this house it had been hers and Mums home since she was a little girl , She was a only child and her Step father had died when she was very small , she could hardly remember him , it hadn't been a good marriage for her Mother but he did leave her with enough money to keep living in this house so her mother was thankful for that , she never talked about her real father and Charlotte never asked

On the dresser in the hall were several photos in silver frames of family and friends ,as Charlotte passed by on her way up stairs she glanced at them and stopped dead ,
No it cant be , she now realised who the man in the shop reminded her of , Amongst the photos was a group Photo of her Mother and 3 friends in her youth , her mother cherished this photo .

Just then the door bell rang Charlotte knew who it was instantly ,
Hello Charlotte he said , he knew her name !! Mum charlotte managed to call out as she showed him into the front room . the room kept for special occasions ,

What is it love her mother said coming out of the kitchen drying her hands on her apron
Looking up she stopped dead she was looking into the same eyes as the man she had loved and lost all those years ago ,
Hello Travis she said , so you know about me asked Travis ,
Oh yes ive always known about you , Charlotte could you give us a moment please said her Mum .

Going into the kitchen she told Toby what had transpired throughout the day ending with , hes in the front room with Mum now , who can he be ?

Well we will find out soon enough said toby ,
30 minutes went by then her Mum called her into the room ,

Charlotte I want you to meet your Brother Travis

MY what squealed Charlotte looking from her mother to Travis then Toby

Its a long story but putting it briefly , before I married Dad I met Michael Travis's father and had a love affair , he was working over hear but had a wife back home , we loved each other but he loved her too and Travis .
He had to go back we both knew that , then I found out I was Pregnant with you , he provided for you secretly for years , your Dad found out and that's what started all the trouble although by then our Marriage had hit the rocks I should never have married him anyway but that's another story to be told another time ,

Charlotte was stunned , why didn't you tell me I had a brother she asked ,

Why come now Charlotte asked looking at Travis ?
Because before my father passed he made me promise to come and see your mother and it had to be on the Eve of your 30th Birthday , That's when he intended coming over to finally introduce himself to you in person so that's why I'm hear

He didn't know me So why now ?

Pulling a small photo album from his pocket he handed it to her , looking at it Charlotte gasped and started to cry
Each page had a photograph of her sitting on Santa's knee she must have been 4 until she turned 10 when she no longer believed ,
She remembered each one , Santa would call at the house each Christmas time and stay a long time chatting and playing games with her asking what she wanted for Christmas .

It has been her Father all along ,
It was the only way he could see you without you knowing who he was , you didn't know anyone else but Dad as your father and we didn't want you to be confused , said Mum
He loved you said Travis , my mother knew about you and your mother but forgave him and understood his reasons for coming each year to see you , he always called you his Christmas baby ,

This was one hell of a Christmas Charlotte thought and a surprise for her30th Birthday tomorrow Christmas day , no doubt there was more to the story but it was just too much to take in at the moment

Lets have tea said Toby and get to know each other , Travis looked at Charlotte , is that ok sis he asked ,
Sis he called her sis !! she quite liked that wait till Judith hears about this she thought with a smile

Its Christmas said Mum squeezing her hand time for Family , what do you say love ? lets have Travis come for Christmas dinner and to celebrate your Birthday see how it goes

Ok Mum but we have a lot of talking to do ,

Good said Toby , now Travis come and meet your niece , Dazed Charlotte followed them into the kitchen passing the photo in the hall on the way
Merry Christmas Dad she heard herself saying , she was sure she heard him say Merry Christmas my Christmas baby back to her

[Gemini]

Awww, that has me in tears Oma!!
What a clever story, well done.

[Oma]

Gem I had loads more in my head lots of filling in on the story but it was very late and I didn't want to make it too long so I had to take and leave lots out so it didn't drag on

[Gemini]

We should make a book of GransRus stories

[Clover]

Lovely stories ladies.Your heads must be full of ideas

Here is my contribution.A story in poem form.
More for the .little ones and those young in heart


Brown Mouse’s Christmas Adventure


Twas the night before Christmas and in the still house
Something was stirring ,a little brown mouse.
He’d heard an old story of a man dressed in red
Who came down the chimney when all were in bed.
It was only one night of the year that he came
So seeing this person was mousey’s main aim.
He crept from his nest down under the stair
Leaving his family sleeping there.
In a far corner he could just see
Covered in sparkle, a green forest tree.
On a small table standing nearby
Was a glass of fresh milk and a crispy mince pie.
Although it was wrong, the temptation was great
And little mouse jumped right on to the plate!
He nibbled the pastry so crumbly and sweet
Then tasted the filling of homemade mincemeat
All of a sudden a noise made him stop,
Something fell from the chimney with a loud plop!
Mouse scampered away to hide under the tree
Wondering what this strange object could possibly be
Getting up from the hearth was a man dressed in red
“Wow” said brown mouse “like that old story said!”
The old man put parcels under the tree
Then looked at the plate and said “Goodness me,
Someone has nibbled my Christmas mince pie!”
Though he spoke with a chuckle and a smile in his eye.
Then he caught site of brown mouse hiding under the tree.
And said “Come out little mouse, don’t be frightened of me
I love nice mince pies but I’ve had one or two,
My tummy’s quite full so this one’s for you”
And then he was gone in the blink of an eye
Leaving brown mousey all alone with the pie.
So mouse took the pie back into his nest
Saying “This thing they call Christmas is really the best!”

[Gemini]

Marvellous Clover! I love it, and it is so clever. It's much harder to write a poem than a story, I take my hat off to you

[Plantaholic]

Well done Clover, really enjoyed it

[Daisy]

I've been saving this thread until I could sit down with a mince pie and a cup of tea and enjoy it. And it was more than worth the wait! I love both your stories Gem and Oma. And Oma, you said you had to cut it down, but I think you should make it into the much longer story you planned - there's a really 'meaty' plot and it would make a great read. I had a big lump in my throat.


Gem - I was wondering all the way through what else could go wrong for your characters - but that's just how life is, isn't it - some people seem to get a run of bad luck and sad things happening to them.

Clover - I take my hat off to you as well. That's a lovely poem and tells a sweet story. If you don't mind, I'll read it to the GDs because I know they will love it too.

I've nearly finished rewriting mine!

[Daisy]

Phew, finally finished!


CHRISTMAS TRADITIONS

It was the morning of Christmas Eve and I stood in the hallway, and looked round at the twinkling Christmas tree with a prettily dressed angel right at the top. Looking through into the lounge I could see all the festive decorations, and the angel of my childhood Christmas’s, now rather battered but having pride of place on the mantlepiece.

The house was quiet, waiting, ready for …. for what? The Big Day, of course. The dogs snored gently by the fire, any minute now they’d get up panting and find somewhere cooler to sleep off their morning walk.

I picked up a card, all glittery and traditional with its frosted snow scene. It was from Auntie Silvia, Dad’s sister, who had emigrated to Canada many years ago. I didn’t need to re-read the letter she had sent with it - I knew it off by heart …. “it will be a different Christmas for you this year, dear, as it will be for me. But it will be what you make it, and you will keep some of your old traditions, but it’s important that you start to make some new ones as well.”

I felt my eyes fill wit hot tears. Pulling a tissue out of my pocket I sat down on the stairs and started to sob. I couldn’t stop, great heaving sobs that left me gasping for breath. Jeff, my parent’s little Jack Russell, came and climbed on my knee, anxiously licking me. He knew as well - it wouldn’t, couldn’t be the same. Roxy our lazy labrador, carried on gently snoring.

Christmas was a time for families, a time to be together, to press the pause button on everyday life and follow the age old Christmas traditions. The preparations for the Big Day were each eagerly anticipated, talked about endlessly and enjoyed for what they were - a step closer to the Day itself.

At school we made decorations out of paper chains and cut out lanterns to decorate our classrooms, and in the Hall there would be the tree, covered in more decorations.

At home, Dad would take my three brothers out to buy the Christmas tree while Mum and I made mince pies and a big trifle. My two oldest brothers, Peter and Derek, would hold the tree while Dad buried the trunk in a big bucket of sand, covered with red crepe paper. Then my little brother, Timmy helped me to put on the decorations. The same ones every year. It was like greeting old friends, and we’d say “where did we put that last year” or “let’s put that one at the front, it’s so sparkly”. Then Dad would lift Timmy right up to the ceiling so he could put the angel right at the top. We always argued about whether our angel was a boy or a girl, but I knew definitely it was a girl!

Eventually, it was Christmas Eve. Mum would be busy in the kitchen, preparing for our huge Christmas Dinner. In the afternoon we hung up our stockings along the mantlepiece in the front room. Dad promised not to light a fire until Santa had been, and we put a glass of sherry and 2 mince pies out for Santa and some carrots for Rudolph and the other reindeers.

As we got older, we were allowed to go to Midnight Mass with our Mum and Dad. We’d leave home about 10.30, still taking casual glances up into the sky, just in case, even though we’d long stopped believing in a portly gent in a red coat. The church would be lit with hundreds of candles and we’d greet our friends, all wondering what would be in our stockings the next day. We sang the well-known carols at the top of our voices - and willingly put half our week’s pocket money in the collection plate. Then there was the walk home, our legs tired, and one last check of our stockings before tumbling into bed.

Eventually of course, one by one we left home, but each year plans would start early to make sure we were all home by Christmas Eve. Mum would make an enormous fish pie and we would sit down at the kitchen table to eat, chat and laugh. Then at 10.30 we would wrap up warm and walk to the Church for Midnight Mass. It was the only time I went to Church, but somehow it seemed right. It was joyous, peaceful and grounding. Many things change, even the words of the service were ‘modernised’, but it was still my family’s official start to Christmas. It was a special, magical family time. Over the years we were joined by girl and boy friends, eventually wives and for me my husband, Stephen. Babies arrived, as they do, and they grew into children and in the blink of an eye it seemed, teenagers.

We gathered at Mum and Dad’s on Christmas Eve and we celebrated our traditional Christmas as we’d always done. Sometimes someone would be missing, but most years we all made it to Mum and Dad’s for our family Christmas.

But this year nothing at all would be the same. It felt as though I’d been tossed into a deep dark ocean and I felt lonely, frightened and very sad. In just a few short months my dear Mum had passed away with double pneumonia. She had been fine one minute, and the next she was in hospital, in intensive care and then one morning as I sat holding her hand, with Dad holding her other, she gently sighed and was gone. Dad tried to be strong, as he’d always been, for all of us, and we begged him to sell up the old family home and come and live with us. He was determined to keep his independence, and carry on without his wife of nearly 60 years at his side, but I am sure the sudden and devastating stroke he suffered just 7 weeks later was a loving heart, breaking. In less than two months my brothers and I had lost the very foundations of our lives. We sadly sold up their home, and tried to be thankful that both parents had had long and healthy lives right up to the end. It didn’t work, of course - how could I be thankful that the pillars of my whole life had gone so suddenly.

And then it was Christmas. My oldest brother, Peter was in the Army and his family were overseas on a posting, My second brother, Derek, was a senior engineer, had drawn the short straw and was on call over Christmas, meaning he had to be within half an hour of his office. Timmy, the youngest, had taken a sabbatical and was in America. His wife, Sandi, was expecting their third baby and couldn’t fly. It was just going to be me, Stephen and our children, the twins, Dawn and Andrea and son Christopher, all at university but, thankfully, home for the holidays.

How could we make a good Christmas amid such sadness and loss!

Stephen, hearing my sobs, came and sat with me on the stairs.

“Love, come on, I know it’s awful, but we’ve still got to think about the kids, big as they are”.

“I don’t think I can do it. I can’t do Christmas. I just can’t. They’re all going to a party Christmas Eve. We’ll be on our own.”

“Well is that so bad?” asked Stephen, putting his arm round me. “Look” he said, “I’ve been thinking and I’ve talked to the kids and we think it’s time to do something different.”

“But I don’t want to …. to, to doing something different, I want our proper Christmas.” He passed me his nice big clean hankie and I snuffled into it, trying to stem the sobs.

“Let’s have a nice quiet evening in front of the fire. We can even watch ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ on DVD if you want to, and tomorrow the kids have said they’ll get up early with us and we’ll go to the early morning service at church, come home, open presents and have a late Christmas Dinner.”

Stephen gently kissed me, and with a twinkle in his eye, asked where the mistletoe was. I gave a tearful smile and putting my arms round him gave him a grateful hug. “What would I do without you! I’m sorry for being such a misery.”

A new pattern was forming. A quiet night in for us, the children out partying as young people will.

Christmas Day dawned, bright and sunny, and quite mild, so we walked with our lovely, caring and very nearly grown up children to Church. A different church, of course, and one I was nowhere near as familiar with as the one close to our old family home. The candles were electric and the vicar and people doing the readings all used microphones. But the choir sang with that beautiful unearthly quality that sends tingles down my back.

Afterwards, we stepped out into the unseasonable warmth and sunshine. As we walked down the path to the gate I caught a waft of scent from a beautiful Daphne bush, and as I paused to enjoy the perfume a bright brimstone butterfly fluttered its yellow wings and landed gently, and briefly on my arm, before disappearing over the hedge.

“Thank you Mum and Dad”, I whispered. “I can build some new traditions for Christmas, but I will never forget all those wonderful, magical years.”


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