Post by champ103 on Dec 24, 2005 13:21:12 GMT -5
A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS STORY or ‘Linda’s Encounter With Papa Noel’
Linda was sitting by the roasting fire in the middle of the night, an epic novel held tightly in her hand, and a displeased frown on her face. Christmas for Linda had lost its spark; Santa wasn’t real and presents really didn’t mean much to her. What was there to look forward to on December twenty-fifth each year except for a nice meal and the birth of Christ; even the latter didn’t mean too much to Linda, as religion to her was not so important.
Linda looked at the clock hanging over the fireplace; it was now the early hours of the morning, and she beginning to get tired. She looked back into the shadows of the room, where the Christmas lights were allowing her to see the decorated tree that her siblings had put up. They were very excited about Christmas, and kept trying to persuade Linda that Santa existed, but she wasn’t buying it.
She thought about PJ and Alice, who were lying in bed, probably too excited to fall asleep, waiting for a non-existing person to fill up their stockings. Linda knew that it was really their mother Celinra who did it, fooling them each year. Linda put her book down and sighed; the next day meant so much to her family, and so she decided to get some rest so that she would be wide awake for Christmas Day. She loved seeing her family happy and excited, opening presents, and so at least she was looking forward to something.
Linda turned the lamp off and walked over to the fire to put it out, but as she did stop the flames, she heard a rumbling from the chimney. With a frown on her mouth and a slight nervous pit in her stomach, Linda slowly leaned into the fireplace, and looked up the dark of the chimney only to find that something was tumbling down it, nearing her head. Linda quickly scrambled from the fireplace, curious and scared at the same time, and as she left the fireplace she tripped over in the pitch-dark living room and fell onto the floor. She gave a cry and hoped whatever it was wouldn’t hurt her; she had heard about burglars pretending to be Santa on Christmas Eve so that he could steal things, but it seemed so unreal as Linda watched the figure walk towards her.
‘Who are you?’ she cried out. She heard laughter, and it sounded like a distinct ‘hohoho!’
‘Don’t you know, Linda?’ he cried. ‘It’s me, Santa!’
Linda frowned.
‘Santa doesn’t exist,’ she cried. ‘Santa isn’t real!’
‘Every time anyone says that, an elf dies,’ Santa said with a frown. ‘That’s two gone, just there.’
‘Gee, I’m sorry,’ Linda said, standing up. Her eyes were getting accustomed to the dark, and she could now see a more detailed person standing in front of her. He looked like every picture she had ever seen-his beard looked real, and he looked like a very old, yet healthy man. His belly was large and round, and he shook it around like jelly at that moment. Linda giggled.
‘You are real!’ she cried. ‘You are!’ She looked at the three stockings above the fireplace that read ‘ALICE’, ‘PJ’ and ‘LINDA’. ‘I didn’t know!’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Santa said, slightly angrily.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Linda said, her heart pumping. It was actually true: it was really real; Santa existed! She suddenly thought of how excited the rest of her family would be, and she paused.
‘Let me go and get my family!’ she cried. ‘They’ll be so pleased to meet you!’
‘Ho ho ho!’ Santa laughed. Linda rushed through to their bedrooms; she shook them and shook them until they awoke, and she hurriedly told them of what had just happened. PJ and Alice looked positively enlightened by this, but their mother looked sceptical.
The three of them walked into the living room, but it was empty. Linda cried ‘Santa’ a few times, but there was no reply; nobody except for them was in the room. Linda frowned, and found that her eyes were filling with tears; her brother and sister looked angry, and their mother looked tired.
‘Linda, maybe you-‘
Linda pointed at the fireplace, her eyes wide with delight, for the three stockings that hung over the fireplace were now filled with presents. She turned to the tree, and saw that loads of wrapped gifts were stored under there now too. She gasped. He WAS real.
Linda went to bed that night more excited about Christmas then she’d ever been before.
Linda was sitting by the roasting fire in the middle of the night, an epic novel held tightly in her hand, and a displeased frown on her face. Christmas for Linda had lost its spark; Santa wasn’t real and presents really didn’t mean much to her. What was there to look forward to on December twenty-fifth each year except for a nice meal and the birth of Christ; even the latter didn’t mean too much to Linda, as religion to her was not so important.
Linda looked at the clock hanging over the fireplace; it was now the early hours of the morning, and she beginning to get tired. She looked back into the shadows of the room, where the Christmas lights were allowing her to see the decorated tree that her siblings had put up. They were very excited about Christmas, and kept trying to persuade Linda that Santa existed, but she wasn’t buying it.
She thought about PJ and Alice, who were lying in bed, probably too excited to fall asleep, waiting for a non-existing person to fill up their stockings. Linda knew that it was really their mother Celinra who did it, fooling them each year. Linda put her book down and sighed; the next day meant so much to her family, and so she decided to get some rest so that she would be wide awake for Christmas Day. She loved seeing her family happy and excited, opening presents, and so at least she was looking forward to something.
Linda turned the lamp off and walked over to the fire to put it out, but as she did stop the flames, she heard a rumbling from the chimney. With a frown on her mouth and a slight nervous pit in her stomach, Linda slowly leaned into the fireplace, and looked up the dark of the chimney only to find that something was tumbling down it, nearing her head. Linda quickly scrambled from the fireplace, curious and scared at the same time, and as she left the fireplace she tripped over in the pitch-dark living room and fell onto the floor. She gave a cry and hoped whatever it was wouldn’t hurt her; she had heard about burglars pretending to be Santa on Christmas Eve so that he could steal things, but it seemed so unreal as Linda watched the figure walk towards her.
‘Who are you?’ she cried out. She heard laughter, and it sounded like a distinct ‘hohoho!’
‘Don’t you know, Linda?’ he cried. ‘It’s me, Santa!’
Linda frowned.
‘Santa doesn’t exist,’ she cried. ‘Santa isn’t real!’
‘Every time anyone says that, an elf dies,’ Santa said with a frown. ‘That’s two gone, just there.’
‘Gee, I’m sorry,’ Linda said, standing up. Her eyes were getting accustomed to the dark, and she could now see a more detailed person standing in front of her. He looked like every picture she had ever seen-his beard looked real, and he looked like a very old, yet healthy man. His belly was large and round, and he shook it around like jelly at that moment. Linda giggled.
‘You are real!’ she cried. ‘You are!’ She looked at the three stockings above the fireplace that read ‘ALICE’, ‘PJ’ and ‘LINDA’. ‘I didn’t know!’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Santa said, slightly angrily.
‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ Linda said, her heart pumping. It was actually true: it was really real; Santa existed! She suddenly thought of how excited the rest of her family would be, and she paused.
‘Let me go and get my family!’ she cried. ‘They’ll be so pleased to meet you!’
‘Ho ho ho!’ Santa laughed. Linda rushed through to their bedrooms; she shook them and shook them until they awoke, and she hurriedly told them of what had just happened. PJ and Alice looked positively enlightened by this, but their mother looked sceptical.
The three of them walked into the living room, but it was empty. Linda cried ‘Santa’ a few times, but there was no reply; nobody except for them was in the room. Linda frowned, and found that her eyes were filling with tears; her brother and sister looked angry, and their mother looked tired.
‘Linda, maybe you-‘
Linda pointed at the fireplace, her eyes wide with delight, for the three stockings that hung over the fireplace were now filled with presents. She turned to the tree, and saw that loads of wrapped gifts were stored under there now too. She gasped. He WAS real.
Linda went to bed that night more excited about Christmas then she’d ever been before.