A Christmas Story

Twas the night before Christmas, when snowflakes were not to be seen. Green was the valley; roads were bare.The sky was littered with stars and silent stillness was met along wooded pathways and deep into the forest. No breeze; no signs of a WHITE CHRISTMAS.

Mama tried to console us, my sisters and I, saying that maybe God wanted papa to be safe on his journey home from the shop where he was employed as a photoengraver. And before we said our prayers, kneeling by our bedsides, she hugged us each in turn and promised to tell us a Christmas story.

Now, mama had a gift for storytelling. She did not read the usual Christmas stories but made up tales which prepared us for a restful, dreamy night. Somehow she wove them with skill into magic tales that left us with a peaceful spirit.

Don’t know about my sisters, but I was very unhappy having heard the radio and TV weather reports that it was likely to be a green Christmas. Living where we did, Christmas was always white, the area pond frozen over where kids and adults of all ages frequented and, having peeked in the closet, didn’t see the training ice skates I had asked Santa for. Yes, ice skating was the joy of winter holidays and lasted so long as the ponds and streams were frozen over. The older kids played sports, built snow forts and I was fond of the snowball fights with other neighborhood groups.

Mama was at the door of our room and I whispered to come hug me. She did and I said I wanted to say another prayer so she kneeled next to the bed with me and I prayed my heart out asking our Father in Heaven to please, please give us all a merry and white Christmas. She hugged me and reminded me that maybe we are asking the Lord for more than he or anyone should but said soon we would be having snow. When you are older you will learn that many children do not have white Christmases and so maybe He wants us to experience the joys coming from a green Christmas. She said, would you like some hot cocoa and we tiptoed to the kitchen.

The sky had blackened. There was a kind of weird howl coming from the trees. In bed I fell off to sleep. I was awakened by my sisters who pulled at my blankets and hopping on the bed joyfully laughing and telling me to wake up. As I climbed out of bed and ran to the windows that they were bubbly dancing by with giggles and joy beyond words, I saw a miracle of miracles–snow, not a inch or so, but nearly three feet that engulfed the entirety of our city as father was to report to us at breakfast. The fact is we could not get out of the house as the snow was too deep and wind drifts had blocked much of the street. JOY! No school for over a week!! which meant a steady visit to the pond in our neighborhood and days of many joyful and happy times.

The city fathers had been caught completely unprepared, believing the weather forecast that was often wrong in those days gone by. We were led to believe that a weather pattern had mysteriously developed during the night which came off the Great Lakes; winds in the upper atmosphere had turned moisture into a mighty snowstorm. These were the facts as related by radio, TV, and morning edition of our newspaper.

Father reported the news given in the newspaper which he had managed to secure for us later that day from the local barbershop. Mama dished out baked apples and winked at me. I smiled, too, and knew just why we got the snow and a MERRY, MERRY AND BLESSED CHRISTMAS!!
FINIS.

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2 Responses to “A Christmas Story”

  1. Ariel Peltz Says:

    Hmm it looks like your blog ate my first comment (it was super long) so I guess I’ll just sum it up what I wrote and say, I’m thoroughly enjoying your blog. I as well am an aspiring blog blogger but I’m still new to the whole thing. Do you have any recommendations for beginner blog writers? I’d definitely appreciate it.

    • kindredspiritks Says:

      Welcome to my site! I write all the stuff unless noted. I usually dream up before falling to sleep at night. I take notes so I don’t forget. My rule is to be honest and creative. I sometimes burn the eye sockets of radicals and politician hacks.-Don.

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