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, and 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 selfsame vault.  Then, behind his back, slowly, noiselessly, the ponderous door swung shut.  He was trapped--entombed in the sudden and terrifying dark.

He hurled himself at the unyielding door, his hoarse cry sounding like an explosion.  Through his mind flashed all the stories he had heard of men found suffocated in time vaults.  No time clock controlled this mechanism; the safe would remain locked until it was opened from the outside tomorrow morning.

Then realization hit him.  no one would come tomorrow--tomorrow was Christmas.

The Only Christmas I Remember

by Bob Lonsberry

In the first-grade we were poor, in a house with three other families on a busy street a few blocks from school.

And it was Christmas.

I knew that. But I didn't know we were poor. You don't know those things when you're in the first-grade.

When you're in the first-grade and you sit in class with rounded scissors cutting strips of construction paper and gluing them around one another into hoops and eventually a long multi-colored chain that you string around the tree your teacher brought to class. You don't know much then.

Only what your mother tells you.

And mine told me not to get my hopes up. She told me that Santa might not be able to stop. That he might be busy, and might have to come to our house later.

And that we couldn't have a Christmas tree.

It must have hurt her to tell me that. I know it hurt me to hear it. It disappointed me. And she told me not to be sad, that something would work out.

She was 24 then, and her second baby was about six months old. My little brother Sean who slept beneath me. Beneath me in a box on the bottom bunk in a closet with a brown folding door.

She said something would work out and one night she popped popcorn and opened a bag of cranberries and we sat there with needle and thread stringing them into garlands to drape around our apartment. Mostly she strung and mostly I played with the thimble. Played with the thimble and ate the popcorn and marveled at how beautiful it was.

The Cobbler and His Guest

by Leo Tolstoy

In a certain town, there lived a cobbler, Martin Avdeich, by name.  He had a tiny room in a basement, one window of which looked out on the street.  Through it he could see only the feet of those who passed by, but Martin recognized many people by their boots, which he had repaired.  He had plenty to do, for he worked well, used good materials, and did not charge much.

Years before, his wife and children had died and Martin's despair had been so great that he reproached God.  Then one day an old man from Martin's native village, who had become a pilgrim and holy man, stopped in.  Martin opened his heart to him.

"I no longer wish to live," he said.  "I am without hope."  The old man replied, "Your despair comes because you wish to live for your own happiness.  Read the Gospels:  there you will see how God would have you live."

Martin bought himself a Bible.  At first, he meant to read it only on holy days, but, once begun, it mate his heart so light that he read it every day.

Stubby Pringle's Christmas

by Jack Schaefer

High on the mountainside by the little line cabin in the crisp clean dusk of evening, Stubby Pringle swings into the saddle.  He has shape of bear bundled think against cold.  Battered hat is pulled down to sit on ears, and in side pocket of jacket are rabbit-skin earmuffs he can put to use if he needs them.  Stubby Pringle swings into the saddle.  He looks out and down over worlds of snow and ice and tree and rock.

"I'm Stubby Pringle, cowhand of the Triple X, and this is my night to howl.  I'm Stubby Pringle, son of the wild jackass, and I'm heading for the Christmas dance at the schoolhouse in the valley."

Stubby Pringle swings up, and his horse stands like rock.  It knows the folly of trying to unseat Stubby Pringle.

"Why you flop-eared ewe-necked cat-hipped strawberry roan, you look like you should have died weeks ago but you won't 'cuz you got iron rods for bones and nitroglycerin for blood."

Stubby Pringle sits in his saddle and he grins into cold in distance.  Why, shucks, he's still just a boy.  His twentieth birthday is still six weeks away.  He has been taking care of himself since he was orphaned at thirteen.  He's been doing man's work since he was fifteen.

Stubby Pringle slips gloved hand to wipe frost off the saddle.  he slaps right-side saddle bag.  It contains a burlap bag wrapped around a two-pound box of candy, of fancy chocolates he acquired two months ago and has kept hidden from Old Jake.  He slaps left-side saddle bag.  It holds a burlap bag wrapped around a paper parcel that contains a close-folded piece of dress goods and a roll of pink ribbon.  Interesting items, yes.  They are ammunition for his campaign to soften the afflictions of whichever female among those at the schoolhouse appeals to him most and seems most susceptible.

The Gift of the Magi

by O Henry

One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas. There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad. In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young." The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good. Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag.

Come and See

by Elder Marvin J. Ashton

Jesus was born in Bethlehem, but he was later identified as Jesus of Nazareth, the site of his early home. He was brought up in Nazareth, a small village in a hollow among the hills of the Sea of Galilee. Nazareth was a poor town void of wealth, without respected leadership, and without many residents. As young Jesus grew up and taught, people “were astonished at his doctrine: for his word was with power” (Luke 4:32).

Those who saw and heard Him were not only astonished, but frightened, bewildered, and amazed as well in His life and performances. They were inclined to talk among themselves about His unusual skills, conduct, and background.

Nathaniel, one of His disciples “said unto [Philip], Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth? Philip saith unto him, Come and see” (John 1:46). The answer in those days and the answer today is, If you would know Jesus, come and see.

The word come means to move to, to draw near, or to approach. To see is to perceive with the eyes or to gain knowledge or awareness of.

Is There a Santa Claus?

Dear Editor:

I am eight years old.  Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.  Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun it's so."  Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O'Hanlan
115 West 95th Street
New York City

Virginia, your little friends are wrong.  They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age.  They do not believe except they see.  They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds.  All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's are little.  In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.  Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus!  It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.  There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence.  We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight.  The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus!  You might as well not believe in fairies.  You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa coming down, what would that prove?  Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign there is no Santa Claus.  The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see.  Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there.  Nobody can conceive nor imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart.  Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, and romance can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond.  Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus!  Thank God he lives, and he lives forever.  A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

Francis P. Church
an editorial from The New York Sun September 21, 1897

Christmas Day in the Morning

By Pearl S. Buck

He woke suddenly and completely. It was four o'clock, the hour at which his father had always called him to get up and help with the milking. Strange how the habits of his youth clung to him still! Fifty years ago, and his father had been dead for thirty years, and yet he waked at four o'clock in the morning. He had trained himself to turn over and go to sleep, but this morning it was Christmas, he did not try to sleep.

Why did he feel so awake tonight? He slipped back in time, as he did so easily nowadays. He was fifteen years old and still on his father's farm. He loved his father. He had not known it until one day a few days before Christmas, when he had overheard what his father was saying to his mother.

"Mary, I hate to call Rob in the mornings. He's growing so fast and he needs his sleep. If you could see how he sleeps when I go in to wake him up! I wish I could manage alone."

"Well, you can't, Adam." His mother's voice was brisk. "Besides, he isn't a child anymore. It's time he took his turn."

"Yes," his father said slowly. "But I sure do hate to wake him."

When he heard these words, something in him spoke: his father loved him! He had never thought of that before, taking for granted the tie of their blood. Neither his father nor his mother talked about loving their children--they had no time for such things. There was always so much to do on the farm.

Now that he knew his father loved him, there would be no loitering in the mornings and having to be called again. He got up after that, stumbling blindly in his sleep, and pulled on his clothes, his eyes shut, but he got up.

Here are ten Christmas trivia questions for you.  The answers may or may not surprise you.  I've included all of the answers in the post, but you'll need to click "more" to see them.

1) Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer made his first appearance in 1939, in a story that was written to:

A) Advertise a new brand of light-bulb
B) Be read on a Christmas radio broadcast
C) Entertain the author's sick daughter
D) Promote a department store

2) After Scrooge has reformed his life at the end of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol", he proposes getting together with Bob Cratchit for some "smoking bishop", which was:

A) A fast variation of chess popular in Victorian London
B) A premium pipe tobacco
C) A hot spiced drink
D) A Christmas pudding, soaked in brandy and set alight

3) Most of us like to spend Christmas with our families, but sometimes we must be far away. Even then, most of us get to stay on the planet. Prior to the continuous occupation of the International Space Station in 2001, how many people actually spent Christmas Day in space?

A) None - mission planners have always worked around it
B) Just three - the Apollo-8 team
C) Twelve
D) Thirty-five

4) In the Ukraine, if you find a spider web in the house on Christmas morning it is believed to mean:

A) Good luck
B) Misfortune will strike in the coming year
C) The winter will be unusually cold
D) Your house needs cleaning!

5) America's official national Christmas tree is:

A) Displayed at the Rockefeller Center in New York
B) Brought from Canada and erected in Washington each year
C) Located in King's Canyon National Park in California
D) A Scotch pine

6) A modern Christmas custom borrowed from ancient Rome's New Year's celebrations is:

A) Putting up mistletoe to make a "kissing bough"
B) Decorating a tree
C) Displaying a wreath on the front door of one's house
D) Hanging stockings by the fireplace

7) The first instrument on which the carol "Silent Night" was played was:

A) A harp
B) A pipe organ
C) A guitar
D) A kazoo

8) Good King Wenceslas was king of which country?

A) Abyssinia
B) England
C) Bohemia
D) Gondor

9) The real St. Nicholas lived:

A) At the North Pole
B) On the island of Malta
C) In Turkey
D) In Holland

10) Believe it or not, one Indiana town is called:

A) Christmasville
B) Wenceslas
C) Noel
D) Santa Claus

Let's see how well you know your Christmas songs.  By now, you've been listening to Christmas music for two or three weeks, and if you're in a choir, you've been singing them for two or three months.

Each entry in the list below represents a Christmas song.  The letters in each entry are the first letters of the the words in the first line of a song.  You have to figure out what song it is.  For example, OCAYFJAT would be O come, all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant.  So the song would be O Come All Ye Faithful.  Good luck and have fun!  (Oh, and I've disabled comments on this one to stop spoilers!  Look for the answers to be posted the day after Christmas)

1. HYAMLCLYHBL
2. TFNTADS
3. GRYMGLNYD
4. BWBRTGGNOWACTHTB
5. ICUAMCTGSOO
6. SNHNAICAIB
7. OTFDOCMTLGTM
8. DTHWBOHFLLLLLLLL
9. YBWOYBNC
10. JTTWTLHC
11. YKDADAPAVCACADAB
12. ISMKSCUTMLN
13. CSBSDIHS
14. HTHASGTTNBK
15. GGROBARWHFOHCE
16. OHNTSABS
17. AIWFCIMTFT
18. DTTSIAOHOS
19. SBSASUTTFM
20. WTKOOA
21. ITMWTOTY
22. IDOAWCJLTOIUTK
23. CROAOFJFNAYN
24. IBTLALLCEYG
25. OLTOBHSWSTL
26. SBRAYL
27. IBHFCYCCOM
28. WWYAMCWWYAMCWWAMCAAHNY
29. IHTBOCDTOFCP
30. IHABCWY
31. FTSWAJHS
32. JOSNLYETW
33. IWAHFCOAHWD
34. GKWLOOTFOS
35. UOTHRPOJGOSC
36. JBJBJBR
37. HHHHWTMBKRMYEVCT
38. JHTSBJRTTT
39. IRCSBICO
40. GCHABSTCRIT
41. CTTMPRPPP
42. AWHHOHSSOTP
43. HAHJCITBTOTY
44. AIAMNCFHB
45. STNWTTLLDYSWIS
46. OTWOIFBTFISD
47. OCTOCTHATLSV
48. LTBPOEALIBWM
49. YAMOMGYRAAH
50. WCITWLTROMLIS