Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’
Dec
The Gift
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Timothy wants a brother for Christmas.
His mother, divorced, comes up with an alternative solution and sits Timothy on her lap. “Honey, there’s another way we could give you a similar present. Each month we can sponsor a child.”
Timothy tilts his head. “What does that mean, Mommy?”
“Well, each month we’ll send money to help the boy get food, education, and whatever he needs. Some children in other countries can’t afford these things and need help.”
Timothy’s face lit up the room with his radiant smile. “I like that, Mommy.”
In Bangladesh, a little boy has a happy holiday.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
One Last Time
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Be a good boy,” said my mother. “Stop playing cricket in the graveyard with you likkle hooligan friend. I don’t want to hear that you trying to see duppies by washing you face with rice water.”
I didn’t want to disappoint my mother, a God-fearing woman, who left Jamaica ten Christmases ago to work as a hospice nurse in Miami, comforting the soon-to-be dead. I’d been a good boy until last week when she came home in a box. So who could blame me (and I know she would forgive me) if I tried to see her one last time.
From Guest Contributor Geoffrey Philp
Geoffrey is the author of Garvey’s Ghost
Jan
New Year’s Resolutions
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A new year. Time to make new, exciting changes.
Shall I spend more time writing, or perhaps make time to relax with a cup of coffee next to the warmth of the fireplace with a good book. I could clean out the basement and get rid of old Christmas ornaments I never use. How about jogging or enrolling in a paint class. Joining a book club could be fun. I would love to discuss “To Kill A Mockingbird.” Skydiving, snorkeling, traveling the world. Maybe.
Or maybe this is all wishful thinking, since I only have a short time to
live.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Holiday Spirit
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
My neighbor’s colorful red, blue and green Christmas lights gleam
through my window, as my tree with white lights and silver garland
enliven the room.
I sit with my coffee and watch my wife and children prepare milk and
sugar cookies for Santa.
The Christmas song Silent Night plays on the radio and I sit back, feet
reclined, taking in the warmth of the fireplace.
My kids leave the milk and cookies by the fireplace, expecting Santa will come through the chimney with his big round belly and toys.
My family is as true the meaning of Christmas as Jesus.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jan
Yard Work
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
His boots sinking in the mud, Joseph pushed the mower across the lawn. Cecile admonished him for its futility, but with the water receding today, now was his opportunity. He’d always enjoyed doing yard work. There was the sense of accomplishment, but he also liked getting out of the house for a couple of hours.
The water was getting higher every year. Cecile talked about moving, but this was where the kids had grown up and they still visited every Christmas. He refused to leave.
It made him angry to think some people were blaming all this on global warming.
Dec
The Tiny Box
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Rosa watched the Christmas lights flickering on the house across the street. Green, red, blue and white, gleaming through her window. She took a sip of tea and let the warmth settle in her stomach.
Under the Christmas tree sat a tiny box from Steve, neatly wrapped in gold paper and a red bow.
A year had passed since Steve’s death and Rosa wouldn’t open the box without him.
Deep inside she knew what would be in the box, but truly knowing would break her heart.
Every year Rosa continued putting the box under the tree and never opened it.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Dec
Last Box
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
“Meat grinder?” I asked.
Arnold laughed. “Strange guess, sis’.”
“Not at all. Grandma kept her favorite possessions even when she
couldn’t use them anymore.”
Arnold shook the box. Contents moved.
“She grinded roasts for cabbage rolls and meatloaf,” I added.
The overhead light flickered as it swayed. I shivered.
“Let’s carry the box downstairs,” I said. “I hate attics.”
“Why, you’re scared?” Arnold snickered.
I followed my brother into the kitchen. Inside the box we found
parcels wrapped in Christmas print. Each labelled with tags spelling
out names of the family.
Grandma didn’t have a chance to give them out.
From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs
Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.
Sep
Acknowledgement
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He shouldn’t have to insist on special treatment. It’s no longer special at that point. Besides, he wanted to maintain the same humble demeanor as before. Success and fame shouldn’t change who he is, right?
But here he was, waiting with everyone else. Not one person had acknowledged his big breakthrough.
“More eggs, Brian?”
“Yes, please.”
He appreciated the gesture, but you’d think a guest appearance on CSI would bump him to the head of the table, not stuck in between his siblings while breakfast was served. Besides, the eggs were cold. Some Christmas this was turning out to be.
Dec
The True Meaning Of Christmas
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Three-year-old Hannah placed a reindeer ornament on the Christmas tree while her mother put on the sparkling red star topper. The tree with its colorful lights lit up the room.
Hannah’s mother admired its beauty. “Your father will be very surprised.”
“Do you think Santa will bring me everything I asked for?” Hannah danced in a circle.
“Presents aren’t the true meaning of Christmas. We celebrate the birth of baby Jesus.”
Hannah didn’t quite understand, but picked up the baby Jesus from the manger.
“Mom can we buy Jesus a present for Christmas?”
Hannah’s mother touched her face and smiled.
From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher
Jul
Never
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
She kept the Nevers in a shoebox. Most came from her mother, from childhood, but even now, she could sense her mother preparing more for Christmas. Her step-father gave her a few in the early years, but they faded to nothing as their relationship thickened to indifference.
The one from her father appeared the day after he died. Everyone thought she was too young to remember his return from the war, the nightmares, the gun shot, the funeral. Perhaps she had been, but she still kept the Never, like a scar.
She often wondered why he’d left her only one.
From Guest Contributor EM Eastick