Tag: 25 Days of Christmas

Waiting…..Waiting for Christmas

by Elizabeth English

Herman and I finally locked our store and dragged ourselves home.  It was 11 p.m. Christmas Eve.  We’d sold almost all of our toys; and all of the layaway, except one package, had been picked up.  But the person who had put a dollar down on that package never appeared.

Early Christmas morning our 12 year old son, Tom, Herman and I were out under the tree opening up gifts.  But there was something humdrum about this Christmas.  Tom was grown up, and I missed his childish exuberance of past years.  As soon as breakfast was over, he left to visit friends and Herman disappeared into the bedroom, mumbling, “I’m going back to sleep.”

So there I was alone.  It was nearly 9 a.m.  Sleet mixed with snow cut the air outside.  “Sure glad I don’t have to go out on a day like today,” I thought to myself.  And then it began—something I’d never experienced before.  A strange, persistent urge.  “Go to the store,” it seemed to say.

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Twas the Night Before Christmas a Long Time Ago

‘Twas the first night of Christmas a long time ago,
The hillside was peaceful, the moon was aglow.
The world couldn’t know from what happened before,
That men would remember this night evermore.

The sheep on the hillside—their days journey over,
Were dreaming sweet dreams of a field full of clover.
The shepherds were watchful while guarding their flock,
The earth was their pillow, the stars were their clock.

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A Boy Learns a Lesson

by Thomas S. Monson

In about my tenth year, as Christmas approached, I longed for an electric train.  The times were those of economic depression, yet Mother and Dad purchased for me a lovely electric train.

Christmas morning bright and early, I thrilled when I noticed my train.  The next few hours were devoted to operating the transformer and watching the engine pull its cars forward—then backward around the track.

Mother said that she had purchased a wind-up train for Widow Hansen’s boy, Mark, who lived down the lane at Gale Street.  As I looked at his train, I noted a tanker car which I much admired.  I put up such a fuss that my mother succumbed to my pleadings and gave me the tanker car.  I put it with my train set and felt pleased.

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The Man Who Missed Christmas

by J. Edgar Park

It was Christmas Eve; and, as usual, George Mason was the last to leave the office.  He walked over to a massive safe, spun the dials, swung the heavy door open.  Making sure the door would not close behind him, he stepped inside.

A square of white cardboard was taped just above the topmost row of strongboxes.  On the card a few words were written.  George Mason stared at those words, remembering…..

Exactly one year ago he had entered this self-same vault.  And then, behind his back, slowly, noiselessly, the ponderous door swung shut.  He was trapped—entombed in the sudden and terrifying dark.

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A Brother Like That

A friend of mine named Paul received a new car from his brother as a pre-Christmas present.  On Christmas Eve, when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it.

“Is this your car, mister?” he asked.

Paul nodded.  “My brother gave it to me for Christmas.”

The boy looked astounded.  “You mean your brother gave it to you, and it didn’t cost you anything?  Gosh, I wish…..”

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