I Couldn’t Agree More

Photo by: Jonathan Borba - Photography

Mark looked over at Melinda. He could see the tears flowing down her cheeks as she read the mail. Immediately he rose and walked over to her. “Another one?” he asked softly.

Melinda nodded as she set the letter down on the counter, closed her eyes and broke down into sobbing hard. Mark took her in his arms and softly whispered. “Everything is alright.”

Abruptly Melinda pulled away and said bluntly, “Everything is not alright,” as she stalked away. “Twenty four letters in 24 days is too much. What was she thinking?” as she closed the door to the bedroom. 

Mark sighed. It was Christmas. It was supposed to be one of the happiest times of the year. He sat on the stool at the counter and had to wonder, not for the first time, if happiness was ever going to be a part of their lives again.  

“Olivia,” he said quietly. “You are just prolonging the torture." 

He picked up the letter.

Dear Mom and Dad,

This is the last letter I promise. 

When I was fourteen we did the Disney Cruise.

Mark looked over the top of the letter towards Olivia’s picture that was on the fireplace mantel. He wiped a tear as he recalled the trip.

That was the best thing I ever did in my life. All the shows were magnificent. I particularly liked the live show that showed all the characters in a great Christmas story. There was tons of food, lots of laughter. There were so many things for us to do. We were all together happy and enjoying ourselves in what would be the last normal vacation we had before everything changed.

Mark smiled at the memories.

Since that time you have done your absolute best to make sure that we all enjoyed our times together. For the last 24 years you have been a rock, giving me the love and support I needed to help me cope. I couldn’t have done it without you guys. You made everyday special, even those days when there was nothing that could cheer me up you still tried hard. 

Mark felt the tears roll down his cheek.

“You have been model parents. I hope that Emily and Sam understand the scope of how important you are in their lives.”

“You should be receiving this letter on Christmas Eve if all goes well. I will miss this time of year. The love and warmth always built new hope. The amount of caring almost exceeded what you have shown for me as it was about all of us. I want you to know that is important. “

There was a knock at the door. Mark opened the door to find a small package on the doorstep addressed to him and Melinda. He picked it up and brought it inside.

“Melinda,” he called. “There is a package for us.” Melinda raced out of the bedroom door.

“A Package? What is in it?”

Mark handed the package to her. “You can open it.”

Melinda carefully opened the package. She gasped as she pulled the book from the wrapping. “It’s a book!” she said through her tears. She handed Mark the book as she sat down. 

Mark stood stunned looking at the cover. “Stories From My Life, by Olivia Wilson,” shone from the cover. “Did you know she was doing this?” he asked.

“No idea,” Melinda said through the cracks in her voice.

Mark flipped open the cover. “For mom and dad, the best parents ever," said the inscription in Olivia’s handwriting. “She has been writing her whole life. When did she find time to put this together?”

“Don’t know,” responded Melinda. “She was too ill at the end. A book. She published a book.”

“Merry Christmas mom and dad. I wish I was there to share it with you. Unfortunately this cancer has me beaten. I just want you to know that you have been loved as much as you have loved me.”

Love Olivia 

“Stories From My Life.” Melinda flipped to the first story. “Here’s one from when she was eight.” She flipped further. “And another from earlier this year.”

“And 24 letters for Christmas.”

Emily and Sam burst through the door. “Did you get one?” they inquired as they placed their books on the counter. As Melinda held up their copy Emily stated through her growing tears. “Best damn Christmas present ever.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” replied Mark as he gathered them in a group hug. “I couldn’t agree more.

Two Second To Last Christmas Stories: The Big Day Is Tomorrow

 

Christmas In Reverse

Prompt: Write a story in reverse chronological order

Prompt by: Roberta Sant'Anna (@roberta_sant_anna) | Unsplash Photo Community

By midnight they could barely keep their eyes open. Their heads barely hit the pillow before the snoring started..

“They took that well,” John stated as he put on his pajamas.

“I thought they would never go to bed,” said Elysse. “It used to be that Christmas day tired them out. They are going to be cranky when we wake them up at 6:30.”

Elysse and John sat and watched the news at eleven. They kept hoping their teenage twins would crawl off to their rooms. Normally the kids would be tired but unfortunately Christmas day just seemed to invigorate them.

The usual commentary during Christmas Board games slowly gave way to an evening of creating the absolutely worst puns ever. 

“I never get tired of this tradition,” Jane allowed. 

“It’s as if you store them up all year,” replied her father Phil.

“I think she does,” chimed in John. “From time to time I hear her through the walls trying out some new ones.”

“Are you holding a glass against the wall?” smirked Jane.

“Well dear, that was the best Christmas meal ever.” 

“Dad, you say that every year!”

“Dinner is served.”

The mid afternoon Christmas slump couldn’t come soon enough as everyone was assigned a corner to read their new Christmas books. 

“It’s earlier than I expected,” said an exhausted Phil. 

“Mom, we have finished opening the presents. Can we dip into the Christmas candy now?”

As the twins rounded the corner Elysse could see a momentary disappointment in the twins eyes before they looked at each other and covered it up.

“Thank you for the sun hats and books,” they said in unison as they put their gift on their heads.

“I suppose you are wondering why there are so few presents under the tree.”

They looked at each other. 

“Now that you asked,” said Jane

“This is it?” replied John.

“We are going on a trip to Disney tomorrow!”

“You know the rules about Christmas morning,” said Elysse as her twins came down the stairs.

“Mom!” said Jane as she wiped sleep from her eyes. “Can’t we just look at the presents?”

“Why do you make us suffer?” said an overly dramatic John.

“Traditions are traditions,” Elysse replied as she put some Christmas morning saver on their places at the table. “Let’s eat.” 

Elysse turned and looked at her husband. “Should we wake them up?”

Phil looked at the clock. “9 am is kinda late for them. Remember the year they were up at 4:30? We barely got to bed before they were through the door.”

By Candlelight

A Hundred Word Story

Prompt by: Along the Hudson: O Christmas Tree

Prompt: Write about a Christmas tree. 100 words

Photo by: Elena Shirnina (@evshirnina) | Unsplash Photo Community

Candice had decided to go all organic this year. The tree was in a pot so it could continue growing until spring when it would be planted outside. She decorated it with candles and other decorations that were all home made, much like her ancestors had done. She had spent days developing all of her ideas and stood proudly in front of the tree on Christmas Eve.

“That looks wonderful honey,” replied her amazed husband. “Your efforts are truly something to behold! ” he said as he sniffed. “What’s that smell?”

Tears started as Jim rushed to find the fire extinguisher.

 

Sea Shanties By The Seashore For Christmas

Photo by: Katja Anokhina (@katjaano) | Unsplash Photo Community

“Pour me another one, barkeep,” said Steve as he sat at the end of the bar in the small seaside town. He had been enjoying the Christmas carols sung as seaside shanties by the local artist.

“This has been quite the Christmas Eve,” he said loudly to any and all who were within earshot.

“Indeed,” rumbled the man on the barstool next to him wearing a Captain’s hat. 

“Almost time for a visit from St. Nick,” Steve rambled on with a definite sway to his voice. 

“Indeed, " replied the Captain. 

“Maybe a little Twas The Night Before Christmas,” added Steve, “although,” he said as he tried to check his watch, “the kids may be in bed.”

“Twas The Night Before Christmas is quite the steady story, what with the guy asleep in his cap and there was such a clatter.”

“A steady story?” mumbled Steve. 

“Aye. I heard that he stole the idea from the Captain of the HMS Penobscot. Quite the tale too.” The Captain took a swig of his rum and egg nog.

“The Night Before Christmas is an old sea tale?”

“Aye. Mighty fine,” as he set his glass on the bar.

“Let’s hear it then.”

The salty old sea captain eyed Steve. 

'Twas the night before Christmas, the ship sailed the seas

The whales were frolicing, the passengers at ease

Sleeping in hammocks swinging from the beams

Dreaming of land, free of seasickness and disease

Presents were scarce, the trip was so long

The best they could hope for was captured in song

The parents were worried, wanting better for their kids

Without losing their lives by flipping their lids

When the night watchman called out, “What is this that I see?”

The Captain rushed to the sound of distress in his need.

“Has the fresh air forsaken that which you see?” 

“Nae Captain,” was said as each swell did heave.

“Sighting at port, north by northwest

By the light of the moon I do not say this in jest.

A sailor is spotted this far out to sea 

Bright red in clothing with a back pack indeed”

Closing in quickly he signalled his intent

To board the vessel with a signs he did invent

The next thing they knew he was standing right there

Smiling and joking and sharing rum with great care

“Now Captain thank you for letting me come aboard

This fine ship you rule by the strength of your sword

I come in peace with presents for sure

Giving gifts to all without any final allure”

“Gifts," replied the captain, “all pass through me.

I will dole out to all that I see.”

The man in the red suit looked him in the eye

“It’s Christmas,” he shouted, “I won’t be denied.

You may be the defender of this ship

By my authority I challenge you on this trip.”

Swords in hand, tempers did flare 

Santa just stood there as if he was aware

The captain’s dance had tired him out

So he spoke with with the confidence of doubt

“Have your way my well fed man

Are milk and cookies a part of the plan?”

Quick as a flash Santa placed a gift by each child

“I will know if they are stolen,” he finally allowed.

The captain and his men felt the weight of their sins

Fell to their knees with tardy chagrin

Santa stood there fresh in the night

“Happy Christmas to all, you have done something right”

The bartender placed a fresh rum and egg nog in front of the salty old sea captain. 

Steve had watched him with fascination during the story. “That’s it? That’s the story? Santa saves Christmas aboard an old wooden schooner? Some of the lines don’t make much sense.”

The captain looked past Steve, out the window and pointed. Steve turned.  On the water, by the light of the moon, was a man in a red suit surfing across the bay. 

“Any other questions?” inquired a smirking Captain.

Steve shook his head as he downed the rest of his beverage and headed home.

Christmas Observations A Pair Of 100 Word Stories

 

Mistletoe? Oh My!

A Hundred Word Story

December 21, 2024

Photo by: Paul Zoetemeijer (@paul_1865) | Unsplash Photo Community

Where the mistletoe hung, the participants divided much like an old high school dance. 

Those near the mistletoe were issuing challenges to come over and participate. They would sacrifice themselves as willing participants to live up to the tradition.

Those who were far away deemed those near the mistletoe a little too pushy for their own sake. They felt there was no need to uphold salacious rituals in this day and age. 

Everyone stood, some in awe, some in disgust, as the homecoming queen and the star quarterback demonstrated why mistletoe at a high school dance is a bad idea.

Frosty The Snowman

A Hundred Word Story

Photo by: Matt Seymour (@mattseymour) | Unsplash Photo Community

Christmas Day 1974. They were having the worst snowstorm ever. Inside they felt comfortable as they played with their presents in front of a roaring fire. The aroma of cooking turkey filled the air when there was a huge knock on the front door.

Their mother looked at their father wondering who that could be. With the storm raging outside there were few people who would travel anywhere.

Little Jenny peaked around the corner as her dad opened the door.

“It’s Frosty the Snowman!” she cried. 

“Uncle Jim,” yelled her brother. Uncle Jim was covered head to toe in snow!

 

Ghosts Of Christmas Past

Prompt by: Prompts of Resilience:Ghost Narrator

Prompt: Write a story in the voice of a ghost. Make sure to give the ghost a vibrant personality. Tell us a story they feel close to.

Photo by: Boston Public Library (@bostonpubliclibrary) | Unsplash Photo Community

“Ho, Ho, Ho,” he said in a loud and scary voice.

“What are you? The Ghost of Christmas Past?”

Cyril looked over at Martha.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating Halloween instead of Christmas?” she continued. “Christmas is too good for ghosts.” 

“It was my favourite season,” Cyril replied. “Christmas Grog. Decorating trees, Christmas grog, wrapping presents, Christmas grog. It was a fine time to be alive,” he said as he eyed the egg nog drink that sat on the table. The oblivious inhabitants of the house had been tempting him for a few days now with their preparations. 

Cyril reached out to pick up the drink but his hand slipped right through the mug. He pulled his hand back and smelled it carefully. “At least the aroma stays for a while.”

“You are impossible,” said Martha stating the obvious. 

“At least this family knows how to celebrate Christmas! They look after their kids really well.”

“You can’t blame the last couple of families. They were older people who were waiting for their families who never came to visit.”

Cyril hustled over to the tree to help steady it. His hand slipped through the foliage.

Martha shook her head. “You are a disgrace,” she mumbled.

“I’ve got a gift for you,” he said with pride.

Martha’s body straightened a bit. She eyed him warily. “What gift could a ghost get another ghost?”  

Cyril smiled. “It could be a hug but that would need a body. It could be a scent but again it would be hard to get.”

“So you’ve got nothing.”

He pulled a picture out of his pocket where it fluttered to the ground. 

“Mommy! Look what I found,” said young Mara as she picked up the picture. Cyril tried to take it back but it was too late.

Mara’s mother looked at the picture. “I wonder who this is? The woman certainly looks happy.”

Martha sniffled a bit as she looked at her family portrait. “Thank you,” she said to Cyril. “It is one of the best Christmases I have had in the last hundred years.”

“Merry Christmas,” replied Cyril with a smile.