FanStory.com
"Stories and Poems for the Holidays"


Prologue
This Year's Thanksgiving

By BethShelby

 
My kids said, “Mom, look, why should we all cook?
Let’s get a restaurant meal.”
I said, “Fine by me. Say where I should be,
but see how others might feel.”
Each child soon agreed that there was no need
to bother with recipes. 
We could just shirk the traditional work
and eat whatever we please.     
 
But back in the day, the old-fashion way     
involved making memories.    
I’d make all my brood their favorite food,
while each shared their specialties.
As home fires would burn, we’d all take a turn
thanking God for all he’d blest.
Remembering still those days of good will,
I think our past ways were best.
 


Chapter 1
A Halloween Story

By BethShelby

I should have known better than to let Patti talk me into going along with Cecil’s hairbrained idea. She wanted to do it because, she is boy crazy, and has a crush on Cecil. I think she wanted to impress him with how brave she is. It was a stupid idea, and if she hadn’t been such a close friend, I’d have said forget it. Go at your own risk. Count me out. I felt obligated because she’d been there for me when I needed a favor, and I didn’t want to see her get involved in something she couldn’t control. I don’t get emotionally involved in things, the way she does. I am able to see danger in a realistic way and act rationally. I thought I might be able to stop them from doing anything foolish.

Just because it was Halloween, they thought it was the perfect time to mess with crazy old Miss Higginbotham. Some people claimed she was a witch, but I knew better. She was just a weird old lady that didn’t like people, particularly kids. She always had her light off on Halloween and she had little signs all around her property that read, “Private Property – Keep Off.” No one was going to get any candy from her house, so nobody ever went near her door.

Cecil had it in for her, because walking past her house one day, his dog broke his leash and went chasing after her cat. The cat went up a tree and the stupid dog stood under it barking. Cecil had to go on her property to get his dog, and she’d called the police and made a big stink about leash laws and about him being on private property. The cops didn’t charge him, but they warned him that if he couldn’t keep the dog on the lease, they would have animal control pick him up.

I kept on trying to persuade Patti not to get involved, but she had already made up her mind and I realized she wasn’t going to listen to me.

“Patti,” I said, “it’s Cecil’s problem, not ours. That old lady hasn’t done anything to us. Cecil needs to let it go and stay away from her. I think she’s crazy. No telling what she might do.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a party pooper. It’s Halloween, and we’re too old to go knocking on doors for candy. It will be dark, and her lights won’t be on. She probably goes to bed with the chickens. She won’t even see us. We can wear masks just in case. Gerald and Amos are going too, and I’ve already told Cecil that we would go. He’s bought enough toilet paper to paper the county. All we are going to be doing is helping them throw it up in her trees. Look at all those years when we had to skip her house when we went trick or treating. It wouldn’t have hurt her to have bought a little candy and played along. You’ll have to admit, she is mean and stingy.”

“Well, I guess I will go for your sake, to try to keep you out of trouble, but I’m not throwing no toilet paper in her trees. She is old. Who is going to get it down for her? It’s supposed to rain on Friday. Can you imagine what a mess that is going to be, if it gets wet?”

“It’s just a joke. People who don’t give out candy get tricks played on them all the time. She can hire someone to come clean it up. I’ll bet she’s got gobs of money stuck back. You’re such a Tenderheart, maybe you’d like to volunteer to clean it up for her.”

“I’m not setting foot on her property. I’ll stay in the street, and if I see a light on, or see her open a door I’ll try to warn you all before the cops come. You know they’re patrolling the neighborhood on Halloween night. You’ll be lucky, if you don’t end up in jail.”

I had a real bad feeling this wasn’t going to go down well. I kind of felt sorry for the old lady. I figured she must not have any family, because nobody ever came to see her. In all those years she had lived there, I‘d only been to her house once. It was when a group of us from our Sunday school class at the church was making up Thanksgiving baskets. Some of our class had tried to leave a basket on her porch. She came out of her house with a broom, screaming at us to get off of her property. She said, “Take that crap with you. I ain’t no charity case. Don’t you ever come back. I can buy my own food.”

She had some kind of arrangement with the grocery store to deliver her food, so she didn’t have to go out. I think even the postman was scared to go to her house, not that she got much mail. Once, I asked my mom if she knew why she acted so mean. Mom said she had been that way ever since she moved to our town. Mom said, when she first moved here folks tried to welcome her and make friends, but she let them know right away that she just wanted to be left alone. She doesn’t even own a car so she stays alone all the time. That would be enough to drive me crazy. How’s anyone even supposed to know if she gets sick or dies in there?

The big night arrived and we all got together. Patti and the boys had masks, but since I didn’t plan on going into the yard, I didn’t bring one. We waited until it was dark and all the trick or treaters had gone home. I stood back away, so I could see the house. The streetlight was broken in front of her house, which gave me some protection from being spotted. I warned them not to be talking and making noise, but it didn’t do any good, because I could hear them giggling and tripping on uneven ground. When they started pitching the paper into the trees it disturbed some crows roosting on the limbs. That really set off a disturbance as the birds lifted skyward, squawking their protests. The white toilet paper streaming down the branches showed up clearly against the dark limbs.

There was enough moonlight, and I could see the house, so I was pretty sure I would be able to tell if she opened the front door. I thought I saw some movement by one of the windows. Then I heard a screen being pushed out. I knew I had to warn them. “Hey, I think she hears you.” I tried not to yell too loud, but they weren’t hearing me. “RUN,” I yelled louder. “She sees you. We’ve got to get out of here. Let’s go, now!”  

That is when the gun went off, and I heard someone scream. It sounded like, Patti. I was already in motion, but I stopped. I couldn’t leave her behind. What if she was dead? The boys were already half way down the block, and not looking back. I didn’t see Patti anywhere.  

“Hey, don’t shoot!” I yelled. “We’re just kids.”  I had to get to Patti, but what if she shoots me too? People were coming out of nearby houses, and trying to find out what happened. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and Patti still hadn’t come out of the yard. I heard a siren in the distance. Someone had called the cops.

 “What’s going on? a man asked me. “Is someone hurt?”

“I don’t know. My friend may be shot. I’ve got to go find her.”

You need to wait. The cops are coming. Let them handle it. Who was it who shot the gun?

It was the lady that lives in that house. I think she thought someone was breaking in. I tried to warn my friends. They were toilet-papering her trees.”

“You mean Miss. Higginbotham? She’s a strange one. You kids ought to know better than to mess with her. I didn’t know she had a gun."

Just then, the cops arrived. I saw Patti crawling out of the yard. Something looked like a trickle of blood, running down her arm, and she was crying. “She shot me. She got me in the arm.”

“Thank goodness, you’re alive. I thought she’d killed you.”

One of the cops was on his bullhorn ordering the lady to leave the gun behind and come outside. She emerged holding her hands in the air. She was sputtering, crying and acting like she was about to pass out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill nobody. I don’t want to go to jail. I thought somebody was breaking in on me.”

I don’t think you have killed anybody, Miss Higginbotham. It was just some kids acting wild. You should have called us, and let us handled it. You can’t go shooting people. Have you got a permit for that gun?”

One of the officers turned to Patti. He checked her arm. “Looks like it just grazed you. It has about quit bleeding. If you didn’t get hit anywhere else, you’re lucky. I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks, but she could have killed you. Was it just you two, girls? “

“No there were three boys, but I saw them all come out of her yard and run. I don’t think any of them got hit,” I told him

“Well, we’ll need their names. You kids were trespassing. She’s got signs out everywhere. She might want to press charges.”

By that time, the other officer had come over with Miss Higginbotham in tow. She heard ‘pressing charges’ mentioned and shd said, “No, I’m not pressing no charges. I just hope I don’t have to go to jail. That was the first time I ever tried to shoot a gun in my life, and I can’t believe I almost killed someone. When I moved here, I was in a strange place and scared of everybody. I’m an old lady, now. I can’t keep going on without some help. I know everybody probably hates me, and it’s my own fault. I just hope it ain’t too late. I’ve come to realize, its lonely to try to go on all by yourself. I know now, I need people in my life.”

In the end, we all learned a lesson. The five of us got chewed out by the cops. We all had to do some community service, starting with getting the toilet paper out of her trees. Miss Higginbotham had to work hard on learning how to be a nicer person, but she was so relieved that she hadn’t killed anyone, she really tried. She found her neighbors to be a lot less threatening and nicer than she had imagined. She decided she didn’t want a gun in her house, saying she wasn’t sure she could trust herself with it.  

All that Patti and I do on Halloween these days is to give out candy to the local kids, and tell them how cute they look in their costumes.

Author Notes The narrator's words are in bold type.


Chapter 2
Personal Goals for the New Year

By BethShelby

 
The time has come for one more year to close .
Close this old book and start a fresh new page. 
Page one is clean with nothing written yet .
Yet, something must be written at this stage.
 
Stage one decides the things we’d like to change.
Change the old habits which we know are bad.
Bad Karma might have kept us from our best.
Best, let it go, there’s so much more to add.
 
Add resolutions that we’re sure we’ll keep.
Keep realistic, lest they make us fail.
Fail not  to  note the  things that made us slip.
Slip in some notes for things we hope to nail.   
 
Nail on our wall a timeline to achieve.
Achieve those goals we’ve put off all these years.
Years pass by quickly and, too late, they’re gone.
Gone because we’ve been victimized by fears.
 
Fears mustn’t be allowed to rule our life.
Life is too precious to waste any more.
More certain now it’s time to reach our goals .
Goals to achieve in Twenty -twenty-four.

 


Chapter 3
Valentine Day Fiasco

By BethShelby

Jeannie was sad and lonely. This would be her first Valentine Day without her husband. They had been together since high school. He was her first and only love and, without any warning, he informed her that he had found someone else. The worse part was it was someone she considered her best friend. George moved out the week before and now, she was alone. Not only was she sad and lonely, she was angry that he would do such a thing. All she had to look forward to was a boring evening alone.

At least, the house was hers. All those months which George had spent installing the swimming pool with the fancy deck and planters would be his loss. He wouldn't be around to enjoy them. It served him right for leaving her. She turned into the driveway with tears blurring eyes. That stupid paper with orange plastic wrapper was lying in her driveway. She always took it straight to the trash. She didn't understand why the delivery boy couldn't, at least, put it in the paper holder on her mailbox.

She stopped the car and reached for it with her foot on the brake. It was further than she thought, and she had to stretch. Suddenly, she lost her balance and felt herself tumbling from the car. Her foot slipped from the pedal, and the car started moving forward. Frantically, she grabbed for the hand brake, but she didn't reach it in time. She had to retract her arm before the car wrenched it off. "Oh shit, at least it will stop when it reaches the fence. I'm not about to go chasing after it.", she mumbled as she strove to pull her herself up to a standing position.

She watched as the car got to the fence, but it didn't stop. The fence gave way, and the car kept right on going. The beautiful redwood planters containing her geraniums didn't stop it either. The planters splintered, and the damp dirt squashed out in every direction. Next was the deck which was low enough to the ground the car was able to move right on in with ease and straight into the swimming pool. Jeannie starred in disbelief while the wheels kept turning as the car sank to the bottom and mud and bubbles rose to the top.

What a wonderful Valentine day this is turning out to be, she thought. Her immediate reaction was to grab her cell phone and call George. After his initial shock wore off, he informed her that he'd dropped all coverage except liability on the car. He told her, the only thing he knew to do would be to call a wrecker service and the homeowner insurance adjuster for her.

To add insult to injury, the guys from the wrecker service thought it was hilarious. They had a good laugh at her expense before they set about the task of removing the car. The insurance adjuster had a good chuckle as well.

Valentine's Day ended on a sour note, but at least it hadn't been boring. The insurance adjuster estimated the homeowner damages on the high side. The check came a week later, and it was for $23,000. The waterlogged car was beyond repair. She was able to sell it for parts for $300. George came around and made the repairs himself, and Jeannie took the money and went shopping. The whole episode hadn't ended so badly. She had wanted another car anyway. A bright colored convertible seemed the way to go.




Author Notes Last wee, a friend told me this story of what happened to her. She gave me permission to write about it. I've told it, for the most part, as she told it to me but I've changed the names.
Thanks to Smurphgirl for the picture.


Chapter 4
The Christmas Present

By BethShelby

It was the week before Christmas in 1952. I sat perched on a stool in my uncle’s coffee and sandwich shop, staring at the refection of colored Christmas tree lights blinking on and off in the rain-soaked plate glass window. I was fourteen and bored because I had brought nothing along with me to read. At the moment, the shop was empty of customers. It would be hours before my dad would get off from work and come by to take me home.

Aunt Eva, my bachelor uncle’s unmarried sister, sat in the back room chopping onions. Uncle Willie sat on one of the stools smoking a cigar. He rose and went over to the jukebox, dropped in a quarter and pressed five selections. Hank Snow began wailing something about an old Christmas card. I could hardly believe in only a week Christmas would be history. The music eventually stopped and my uncle put the remains of the cigar in an ashtray and walked back to the kitchen.

I continued watching the cars pass on the rain-soaked streets outside. Suddenly, the front door opened, and a man, who looked to be in his early thirties,entered shaking the coat he had held over his head like an umbrella. He sat on one of the counter stools. I got up and walked over and asked what I could get for him. I wasn’t an official waitress, but no one stopped me when I pretended to be one. 

He asked for a cheeseburger and an RC Cola. I walked back to the kitchen and gave the burger order to my uncle. Then I pulled up the lid on the drink box and located the cola among the floating ice cubes. I opened it and passed it over to him, still in the bottle. 
 
 
The man appeared to have a sad expression on his face. He had curly auburn hair and a trace of freckles. He wasn’t bad-looking. I wondered if there was a way I might cheer him up. 

“Your order will be ready in a few minutes," I said. “The rain is really pouring down out there, isn’t it?”

He offered a slight smile. “Yeah. It sure is, I got pretty soaked coming from work."

“You work around here?”

“I work at the Harrison Machine Shop around the corner.”

“Oh, here comes your order, I hope you enjoy it,” I said as I handed over the cheeseburger my uncle had passed through the opening from the kitchen. 

I had only recently become a bit more outgoing. My self confidence had been boosted by the fact my body was starting to mature. I had noticed the guys were viewing me a little differently. At school, all of us girls were getting second looks, but there were so many of us, the competition was stiff. At a place like this, I was the only girl around. It was easier to get the attention which I was beginning to enjoy. It dawned on me there was a certain kind of power females had in the male dominated world.
 
The problem was the little café was no hangout for the high school crowd. Mostly, it was the older blue-collar workers from the factories and shops who patronized this place. My parents hadn’t realized yet that their only daughter was starting to mature. The truth was I was tongue-tied around guys my own age. I’d been around adults all my life, and I found them to be a lot less intimidating.

I didn’t see a ring on this guy’s finger so I figured he was fair game on which to practice the art of learning how to flirt. I moved in to see if he’d take the bait. “How’s your burger?” I asked. 

“Fine! Just the way I like it. Really good. You a student over at the high school?” 
 
The conversation was on. We kept making small talk long after his meal was finished. Once or twice, I even had him laughing. He seemed far more upbeat than when he’d first walked in. I figured I had done a good thing.
 
The rain had slacked off by the time Dad came from work and took me home. I soon found something to read and forgot all about the man until the following day. My aunt, who lived in the next house over, told me she had something for me. She handed me a beautifully wrapped Christmas package. She told me the man who I had been talking to the previous day had brought it in and asked her to give it to me.

Like any kid with a gift, I excitedly ripped off the wrapping paper and found a comb, brush and mirror set. I hurried back home to show it to my mom. Her reaction was not, at all, what I had expected.

“YOU GOT THIS WHERE? A Man? What man? Are you crazy? You can’t take gifts from men! You take that back right this second. Tell your aunt to give that gift back to him and to let him know you’re just a child.”

I was humiliated. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s not like it’s anything expensive. It's only a dresser set. We were just talking. I didn’t know he was going to get me a gift.”

“I don’t care what it cost. You’re not taking it. I don’t want you going back over there to that place. From now on, you need to ride the school-bus home every day. You don’t need to be hanging around in town, talking to strangers.”

My poor aunt was as embarrassed as I was over the situation. She didn’t like talking to men. She’d 
never had a man in her life, other than family, and she didn’t understand them.
 
She told me when she returned the gift, she had let him know it was my mother who wouldn’t let me keep it. She said he cried. He told her his wife had passed away the month before during childbirth. They had lost the baby as well. He said he didn’t mean anything by it. He knew I was young, but it was just that I had been nice to him. He said he didn’t have anyone else to buy a gift for at Christmas and wanted to show me he appreciated me talking to him.

This made me sad. I realized my action had hurt more than one person. I decided to lay off practicing my flirting skills. I might end up an old maid like my aunt, but I couldn’t risk this happening again.
 
Of course, like all my New Year’s resolutions, this one only lasted until February. When I was sixteen, I was at it again, and this time I met the man I would later marry at the same little café. He had just gotten out of the service, and he wasn’t quite nine years older than me. 
But that is a whole different story for another time.


Chapter 5
To Believe or Not to Believe

By BethShelby

Billy Smith and Tommy Durio say there's not no Santa Claus. It didn't make sense because where does all that stuff come from? My mama and daddy don't have a lot of money, so it can't all be from them like they say it is.

They said only babies believe in Santa Claus, so I went home and asked Mama,
`cause I'm pretty sure she don't lie. She says lying is bad. Anyway, Mama said Santa Claus is a myth, but she wouldn't tell me what a myth is. I tried to look it up but I didn't know how to spell it.

I don't care if Santa Claus is a Myth or a Chinese or whatever `cause I know he is real, and let me tell you how I found out. We got this fireplace with a grate thing where your put the wood. On Christmas morning, I came in and that thing was busted. When I asked Daddy what happened, he said Santa was too heavy when he stepped on it and it broke. Now, you can't tell me Daddy busted it himself just to fool me into believing in Santa Claus. And besides that, what happened to the milk and fruitcake I left out for him? Daddy doesn't even eat fruitcake.

The only thing I still wonder about though is how he managed to get down that chimney without getting stuck or why my tricycle didn't have no soot on it. And what about all those kids who don't even have chimneys in their houses? I need to ask Mama `bout that.

I think Billy and Tommy aren't as smart as they think they are, `cause Mamma said when you stop believing he stops coming. I'm not going ever stop believing `cause Christmas wouldn't be no fun without all those presents.

Author Notes Thank to pepsif for the Santa art
This story comes from remembering my own dilemma about Santa Claus. It is true from my prospective as a child. The grate breaking was an accident but it happened at just the right time to convince me a few years longer that there was a Santa Claus. Gramatical error are intentional.


Chapter 6
The Spirit of the Season

By BethShelby


There is something in the air,
which is very seldom there,
and I'm not sure, but I think it may be catching.
Folks are wearing hearty grins,
and they're hugging all their friends,
loaded down with cards and letters they're dispatching.

People meeting in the square
seem to want to stop and share,
and the warmth they are expressing is exciting.
We are making special treats.
We'll have eggnog, nuts, and sweets
To a party, all our neighbors, we're inviting.

The last time we went shopping,
we brought home corn for popping.
In the fireplace, there's a log that's fit for burning.
With Christmas carols playing,
the tunes will have us swaying.
`Tis the spirit of the season, it's concerning.

The heart of God was bleeding.
T'was love this world was needing,
and the Christ child that he gave us, we are praising.
It's why good will is flowing,
and children's eyes are glowing,
for the gift He gave mankind was so amazing.


 

Author Notes The syllable count is 7-7-12-7-7-12 and the rhyme is aabccb for each stanza.
This was written eleven years ago when we had no pandemic and everyone Amazon wasn't our source for everything change quickly. Let's try to bring back the spirit.


Chapter 7
Thanksgiving

By BethShelby

When the turkey's in the oven,
and the dressing has been made...
When the pies are slowly cooling,
and the table has been laid...

When the house is looking festive
with fall colors everywhere,
and aromas from the kitchen
freely permeate the air...

When the kinfolk are arriving
with their faces all aglow,
and the house rings out with laughter
with kids running to and fro...

Then the feast day we're observing
makes us feel as rich as kings,
as we take time to be thankful
for the joy that family brings.

Author Notes For those of you are not from America, Thanksgiving is an American Holiday celebrated on the last Thursday in November. We celebrate it in honor of the first Thanksgiving the pilgrims from England celebrated to give thanks for making it though the year and having bountiful crops. The first years were very hard on the Pilgrima and many of them died. The first Thanksgiving was a large feast celebrated with the Native American Indians.


Chapter 8
Have a Safe Halloween

By BethShelby


They’ll have to screen this Halloween,
if kids must trick or treat.
It’s best to wait, and not tempt fate,
till treats are safe to eat.
An eerie night, with little light,
won’t keep the kids inside.
Costumed, they’ll race from place to place.
All fears, they’ll cast aside.
 
A costumed witch, just crossed the ditch
to knock on someone’s door.
The open room, is draped in gloom-
she’s not been here before.
She’s all alone, and hears a moan-
she isn’t having fun.
A ghost appears with funny ears.
Should she stay here, or run?
She nearly trips, as shaking lips
will whisper “Trick or Treat?”
A candy bar drops in her jar
She leaves on happy feet.
 
The witch's mom, calls her to come
“I’m watching out for you.
You need to know that I won’t go
until you can come too.’”
This mom is wise. Kids need Mom’s eyes
to know they are okay.
Mom will make sure, no one will lure
her little girl away.
 
The holiday seems here to stay.
Don’t let them go alone.
Keep them in sight, throughout the night,
and don’t forget your phone.


 


Chapter 9
The Best Christmas Ever

By BethShelby

I woke up. That alone is cause for rejoicing. Why? Think about the alternative. It is always a good thing to wake up. It is especially a good thing if you're not feeling all that well when you go to bed, or if you've already outlived all your enemies and are living on borrowed time. In my case when I fell into bed that night, I was so exhausted from the day before that I wasn't sure I would ever wake up again. Why was I so tired? It was all because of the weather forecast.

Let me explain. I tend to procrastinate, and due to some unexpected problems, this year the holiday had slipped up on me. It didn't help that no one ever tells me what they want for gifts until it's too late to order on line, or that I have twins with a birthday to celebrate less than a week before Christmas. I had twelve people coming to dinner, and not only had I not finished decorating, I didn't have a single gift underneath my Christmas tree. I had two days left to prepare and I wasn't sure I could pull it off even if I worked non-stop. Then came the forecast. A massive storm system was moving in, and we were scheduled for a rare white Christmas. The snow would start in the wee hours of Christmas morning.

The phone started ringing. "Mom, we'll never make it up your steep hill with snow on the ground. We're going to have to do our Christmas celebration a day early."

"Are you out of your frickin mind? I'm not going to make it like it is."

"We're all off Christmas Eve. We can't do it later. You know we have to work. Don't worry about it. We've talked about it, and we're all coming tomorrow."

Telling me not to worry about it is pointless. Christmas is the one time of year when I do things up right. I'm no longer young and energetic. Knocking myself out trying to make the day special is painful to say the least. I got into full gear. There was a house to clean, shopping to finish, a feast to prepare, and packages to wrap.

With the help of my husband, we somehow managed to pull it off. The following day when my guests arrived, the house was spotless. The table was loaded with an abundance of good food and underneath the tree were dozens of neatly wrapped packages. When the day ended and the aftermath was cleared away, I fell into bed exhausted but with the knowledge that everyone had gone home happy.

That is why waking up late on Christmas morning was such a special treat. The pressure was off. The day was mine to just relax and enjoy my first white Christmas ever. It was glorious. The world was a white wonderland, and I wouldn't have to cook or clean for at least a week. I had the whole day to do with as I pleased. I could take snow pictures, listen to beautiful music and best of all, reflect on the true meaning of Christmas. It was the most wonderful Christmas day ever. It may be the start of a new tradition at our house. Only next year, I may start preparing a little earlier, say maybe the day after Halloween.

Happy New Year, everyone!









 

Author Notes Write a story in a 1000 words or less starting with the sentence "I woke up." 562 words


One of thousands of stories, poems and books available online at FanStory.com

You've read it - now go back to FanStory.com to comment on each chapter and show your thanks to the author!



© Copyright 2015 BethShelby All rights reserved.
BethShelby has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

© 2015 FanStory.com, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Statement