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Thread: The Magic of Christmas

  1. #1
    Domesticus
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    Default The Magic of Christmas

    This was my submission to the recent Christmas writing competition. I know it's not very good, I just can't write so well in English and I started writing too late (as I did also for the current Scriptorium writing competition, but now I have three times longer story) so I didn't have enough time to make small improvements here and there.

    Here's the text:


    Magic of Christmas

    Once upon a time there was a small boy walking on a street of a wintry city. Boy’s head was down. It was Christmas Eve and snowflakes were falling off the sky. It was peaceful. All people were celebrating the birth of Baby Jesus.
    The boy was sad. Christmas Eve was one of the most stupid days in the year, in his opinion. His father was an alcoholic and he had thrown his son out of the house today, as well as most other days.
    Boy’s mother was an angel. She had died when the boy was young. His father never had told the boy the reason his mom died for. Some evenings the boy walked out and asked his mom: “Why? Why did you die? Why I’m alone in the world?” But he never received an answer from his mom neither anyone else.
    Boy’s name was Jack. Name was the only thing he had left. Everything else had gone, taken by the tough world.
    Jack was walking on the snowy street as said. He bypassed shops, sports centers, restaurants and many, many other buildings. Suddenly he heard a voice.
    “Who are you who are sad at Christmas? I can’t accept seeing sad people now. Come here, kid” said a warm, hearty voice.
    Jack turned around. And you won’t – or at least he didn’t – believe what he saw… it was a guy dressed in red. He wore a brownie’s cap, he had a big sled filled with Christmas gifts and big reindeers pulling it. The big, a bit fat guy smiled all the time, and his joy looked endless… eternal in a way.
    “Who are you?”
    “Hmm… You can call me Santa. What’s your name?”
    “I believe my name once was Jack.”
    “Good. Then I call you just Jack.”
    “But what are you doing here? And why did you talk to me? No one has been interested in what I do. I have no friends.”
    “I’m a friend of everyone. And I can’t see people being sad at Christmas. This is the greatest celebration in the world. Haven’t you ever celebrated Christmas?”
    Santa saw Jack’s mouth was turning down and the boy looked even sadder than earlier, and the Santa didn’t smile anymore. Bale was reflected from his eyes. Despite that he answered.
    “No.”
    “Don’t you like Christmas?”
    “No. Dad…” he was about to continue. “What’s wrong with me? I was going to talk about my personal issues for that kind of flaky guy. Never!” he thought and kept quiet.
    “Do you know why are we celebrating Christmas and why is it the king of all celebrations?”
    “No.”
    “Come with me, Jack. I’ll teach you something you won’t ever forget.”
    Then they both just jumped to the sled.

    “Where are we? I have never been here”, said Jack when they were going to land.
    They had left Jack’s hometown about half an hour ago.
    “This is my home”, said Santa and pointed at a big house which had numerous small cottages around it. There was snow everywhere as well as lots of pinewoods. Sometimes Jack was able to see something red between the trees. But he didn’t say anything.
    “Let’s get in”, said Santa and stepped into a small house. “Good evening, dear gnomes – or should I say, Christmas gnomes! Ho ho ho!” he laughed and his huge belly was jumping. “This is a boy I found from streets, and believe or not, he was sad – at Christmas. I thought we may teach him, yes?”
    “Of course. Christmas is a great celebration amongst great people – and gnomes”, said a short, chubby (though not even almost as chubby as Santa) gnome and smiled in the way gnomes usually smile. It’s a weird but hearty smile.
    “These, Jack, are gnomes who make the toys and all the things I give for people.”
    Jack thought it was unnecessary to answer so he just watched when the skillful fingers of the gnome were painting a small train. Red, yellow, black – and the result was wonderful (in fact, everything here was wonderful but let’s not care about that).

    After few hours Jack and Santa were going to land again. Jack had seen very nice things but he hadn’t shown his feelings very apparently. Now they were above Jack’s hometown.
    “Is it over?”
    “Not yet.”
    Santa told his reindeers to land to the snowy street. They stepped down from the sled.
    ”Jack”, called Santa when they had stood some seconds between two big, gray buildings. Surprisingly no one saw them, just like the previous time when they were leaving the town.
    “Yes?”
    “Take this. It’s from me. Santa Claus, also known as Father Christmas – and that’s what I really am.” He gave Jack a small present. Jack looked at his eyes and was surprised.
    “Open it”, said Santa.
    Jack opened the present. And… there was nothing visible. Despite that he felt a wonderful joy himself.
    “What’s it?” asked Jack and – believe or not – smiled.
    “It’s the magic of Christmas”, answered Santa and winked.


    I am very sorry if you read this, it had to be a big pain.
    I just thought to share my story.

    Regards,
    ~Goofy one

  2. #2
    Borissomeone's Avatar Citizen
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    Default Re: The Magic of Christmas

    Hey mate, never be sorry for sharing your work it takes guts and effort to write any tale and then share it with others. I liked your tale and got what you were trying to say so nice work.

    Under the Patronage of TheFirstONeill.

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