- Feb 18, 2011
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This is a story I wrote for a dear friend of ours who is currently not in good health. It is a Christmas story. but i have to split it cause its too long. Hope you enjoy! 
The world was bathed in bright sunlight that bounced off the sparkling white landscape and blinded those who had braved the winter chill in order to leave the comfort of their homes and go about their daily lives. Cars drove slowly through the streets of Greensborough in order to avoid collisions. The roads were clear, the snow plows having come early in the morning to rid the streets of the deep drifts. All the pedestrians were bundled up tight in winter jackets, hats, scarves, and gloves with boots on their feet to protect them from the snow. All, that is, except one particular teenage girl, who didn’t seem to fit in quite anywhere. She wore a thin, black hooded sweatshirt, raggedy old jeans, and donated sneakers that were held together with duct tape. A worn-out baseball cap was all she had to protect her head from the biting cold. However, she was used to the cold and the clothes and didn’t mind them much.
The girl’s name was Alex. She lived in a run-down, old orphanage that barely had enough money to pay for taxes. She was the oldest there, all the others her age having been adopted. No one wanted to adopt her. Sure she was good looking, strong, active, and smart, but she also had bad ADHD. This caused her to get in trouble just about everywhere and she had gone through the seventh grade twice. She was now in eighth grade and on the verge of flunking the first semester. She had a record down at the station and a great talent for trouble and mischief.
However, even though she may not make a big deal of not having been adopted, or continually failing and getting into trouble, what Alex wanted most of all was to have a family who will love her for who she is and not hate her for her problems, and to be normal, not the fourteen-year-old screw up she was. Nobody wanted her. She didn’t have any friends at school. The only person who would even listen to her was a little seven-year-old girl down at the orphanage, Angel, who she had comforted when she had been brought to the orphanage a year ago after the tragic death of her parents.
Alex swung her bag over her shoulder. Christmas was in three days. She remembered the days in which this would have made her bloom with joy. It was the day the orphanage decorated its halls with lights, wreaths, and garlands. The owners would go out of their way to make the holidays special with presents, a feast, carols, and fun. All the staff would pitch-in to really make the day special for the orphans, even if it meant taking time away from their own families and emptying their pockets a little more than usual. She remembered being almost too excited to fall asleep on Christmas Eve as she waited for Santa Clause and the joy she received when she opened the presents he had brought her.
Alex smiled. Ah, the carefree, childhood days. But they were all over. She was no longer the innocent little girl in mismatching flowered pajamas bouncing off the walls of the orphanage. No, she was a teenage girl, with a rep, who had repeated the seventh grade and was on her way to flunking the eighth grade. Christmas no longer possessed the magic it once had for her. It was now just a day, like any other, that she could not found joy in, no matter how hard she looked.
Alex mounted her rusty old bike, which in fact belonged to the orphanage, and started the boring ride to school. She sighed and resolved on focusing her energy on just getting through the day.
The room was crowded with 13-year-old kids who were all listing attentively to their young and fun homeroom teacher, Mrs. Kay, as she announced the winners of the Christmas Poem contest. The first place prize was a large Hershey’s bar, a homework pass, and a Santa pencil.
“And the winner is…” Mrs. Kay searched the class with an excited sparkle in her eye, “…Sally McCade!”
Half the class clapped enthusiastically, the other half only half-heartedly as Sally McCade, blonde curls bouncing and blue eyes shining, made her way importantly up to the front of the class. Sally McCade was a perfect little teen who was filthy rich, spoiled rotten, and one of the biggest show-offs in all of Greensborough. She was the most popular girl in the town and by far the most stylish. She had massed an army of soft-headed groupies who worshipped her and dogged her every step. Her parents worked for the government and wanted to make sure their little daughter had a perfect life. She was captain of the tennis and swim teams and a state-ranked runner. She received straight A’s and was every teacher’s favorite, except for, perhaps, Mrs. Kay, who didn’t believe in favoritism. Sally McCade “never broke a single rule.” She was also Alex’s arch-enemy and never missed a chance to demoralize and embarrass her in public.
Sally went up to the front of her class, collected her prize, and bowed. Most of the class roared in applause as Sally bowed. After the second bow, Mrs. Kay interrupted the class. “All right, Sally. That’s enough bowing.” Sally blushed ever-so-slightly and made her way back to her seat.
Mrs. Kay addressed the class. “Tomorrow is the last day of school. We will be having our Christmas party and I ask everyone to bring in some snacks or party favors.
Sally raised her hand, face as innocent and radiant as an angel’s. “Yes, Sally,” said Mrs. Kay.
“I think there should be a rule that whoever doesn’t bring in a snack or favor, shouldn’t be allowed to participate in the party,” said Sally, smiling. Alex, who had zoned out until now snapped her eyes toward the infuriating blonde and stared daggers at her. Most of the class began to murmur in agreement.
Mrs. Kay cleared her throat and had the entire class’s rapt attention. That is, the entire class minus Alex. “Sally, not all of us can bring in something, for not everyone in this class is as fortunate as you,” said Mrs. Kay sternly. “And remember, Christmas isn’t about Santa and presents and receiving things, it’s about celebrating Jesus’ birth and giving to others as God gave us his only son. Is this something Jesus would have done?”
Sally put down her arm dejectedly. “Well, I still think everyone should be required to bring something in,” she said in her sad, woe-is-me voice that usually pulled on teachers’ sympathies rather quickly.
“Well, you can think all you want, Sally,” said Mrs. Kay, “but that’s not going to make me change my mind.” And just like that, she dismissed any more talk of the matter. Mrs. Kay continued her talk about the next day and getting ready for Christmas until the bell rang and she dismissed the class, except for Alex, who she held back.
“Yes, Mrs. Kay? You wanted to see me?” she said hesitantly.
“Ah, yes, Alex. Please, take a seat.” Alex pulled a chair over to her teacher’s desk.
“You didn’t enter anything into the poem contest,” said Mrs. Kay at long last. Alex was surprised to hear what this was about. “I have also received word from your other teachers that you are flunking every class except English in which you have a low ‘D’. I know you’re a smart kid. You have remarkable talent and potential. You used to be doing much better. What happened? You’re slacking in your studies, late to class, missing homework, not finishing projects…what’s gotten into you? I’ve known you since the first grade, Alex, even though I never taught you. You’ve never been this bad.”
Alex wouldn’t look at her teacher. Mrs. Kay was right. She had been so frustrated with herself and her grades that she had begun to give up, and it was beginning to show. Out of all the teachers, Mrs. Kay was the only one who cared for her, and the only one she would even feel remotely bad about disappointing, and she could tell she had…badly. And it hurt, more than she could voice.
“You’re falling apart, Alex.” Then after along pause, “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Alex could tell she meant well, but she didn’t like anyone prying into her life. “No,” she ground out between her teeth. Mrs. Kay looked at her student with sad, but searching eyes. She could tell she wouldn’t be getting anything out of her pupil and decided it was best to drop the subject.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked. Alex nodded. She wasn’t skiving off after that, no matter how much she wanted to.
“All right, and remember: If you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” Alex nodded again and left, leaving Mrs. Kay frowning in her wake.
The Miracle of Christmas
This Story is for Sr. Bernadette.
The world was bathed in bright sunlight that bounced off the sparkling white landscape and blinded those who had braved the winter chill in order to leave the comfort of their homes and go about their daily lives. Cars drove slowly through the streets of Greensborough in order to avoid collisions. The roads were clear, the snow plows having come early in the morning to rid the streets of the deep drifts. All the pedestrians were bundled up tight in winter jackets, hats, scarves, and gloves with boots on their feet to protect them from the snow. All, that is, except one particular teenage girl, who didn’t seem to fit in quite anywhere. She wore a thin, black hooded sweatshirt, raggedy old jeans, and donated sneakers that were held together with duct tape. A worn-out baseball cap was all she had to protect her head from the biting cold. However, she was used to the cold and the clothes and didn’t mind them much.
The girl’s name was Alex. She lived in a run-down, old orphanage that barely had enough money to pay for taxes. She was the oldest there, all the others her age having been adopted. No one wanted to adopt her. Sure she was good looking, strong, active, and smart, but she also had bad ADHD. This caused her to get in trouble just about everywhere and she had gone through the seventh grade twice. She was now in eighth grade and on the verge of flunking the first semester. She had a record down at the station and a great talent for trouble and mischief.
However, even though she may not make a big deal of not having been adopted, or continually failing and getting into trouble, what Alex wanted most of all was to have a family who will love her for who she is and not hate her for her problems, and to be normal, not the fourteen-year-old screw up she was. Nobody wanted her. She didn’t have any friends at school. The only person who would even listen to her was a little seven-year-old girl down at the orphanage, Angel, who she had comforted when she had been brought to the orphanage a year ago after the tragic death of her parents.
Alex swung her bag over her shoulder. Christmas was in three days. She remembered the days in which this would have made her bloom with joy. It was the day the orphanage decorated its halls with lights, wreaths, and garlands. The owners would go out of their way to make the holidays special with presents, a feast, carols, and fun. All the staff would pitch-in to really make the day special for the orphans, even if it meant taking time away from their own families and emptying their pockets a little more than usual. She remembered being almost too excited to fall asleep on Christmas Eve as she waited for Santa Clause and the joy she received when she opened the presents he had brought her.
Alex smiled. Ah, the carefree, childhood days. But they were all over. She was no longer the innocent little girl in mismatching flowered pajamas bouncing off the walls of the orphanage. No, she was a teenage girl, with a rep, who had repeated the seventh grade and was on her way to flunking the eighth grade. Christmas no longer possessed the magic it once had for her. It was now just a day, like any other, that she could not found joy in, no matter how hard she looked.
Alex mounted her rusty old bike, which in fact belonged to the orphanage, and started the boring ride to school. She sighed and resolved on focusing her energy on just getting through the day.
The room was crowded with 13-year-old kids who were all listing attentively to their young and fun homeroom teacher, Mrs. Kay, as she announced the winners of the Christmas Poem contest. The first place prize was a large Hershey’s bar, a homework pass, and a Santa pencil.
“And the winner is…” Mrs. Kay searched the class with an excited sparkle in her eye, “…Sally McCade!”
Half the class clapped enthusiastically, the other half only half-heartedly as Sally McCade, blonde curls bouncing and blue eyes shining, made her way importantly up to the front of the class. Sally McCade was a perfect little teen who was filthy rich, spoiled rotten, and one of the biggest show-offs in all of Greensborough. She was the most popular girl in the town and by far the most stylish. She had massed an army of soft-headed groupies who worshipped her and dogged her every step. Her parents worked for the government and wanted to make sure their little daughter had a perfect life. She was captain of the tennis and swim teams and a state-ranked runner. She received straight A’s and was every teacher’s favorite, except for, perhaps, Mrs. Kay, who didn’t believe in favoritism. Sally McCade “never broke a single rule.” She was also Alex’s arch-enemy and never missed a chance to demoralize and embarrass her in public.
Sally went up to the front of her class, collected her prize, and bowed. Most of the class roared in applause as Sally bowed. After the second bow, Mrs. Kay interrupted the class. “All right, Sally. That’s enough bowing.” Sally blushed ever-so-slightly and made her way back to her seat.
Mrs. Kay addressed the class. “Tomorrow is the last day of school. We will be having our Christmas party and I ask everyone to bring in some snacks or party favors.
Sally raised her hand, face as innocent and radiant as an angel’s. “Yes, Sally,” said Mrs. Kay.
“I think there should be a rule that whoever doesn’t bring in a snack or favor, shouldn’t be allowed to participate in the party,” said Sally, smiling. Alex, who had zoned out until now snapped her eyes toward the infuriating blonde and stared daggers at her. Most of the class began to murmur in agreement.
Mrs. Kay cleared her throat and had the entire class’s rapt attention. That is, the entire class minus Alex. “Sally, not all of us can bring in something, for not everyone in this class is as fortunate as you,” said Mrs. Kay sternly. “And remember, Christmas isn’t about Santa and presents and receiving things, it’s about celebrating Jesus’ birth and giving to others as God gave us his only son. Is this something Jesus would have done?”
Sally put down her arm dejectedly. “Well, I still think everyone should be required to bring something in,” she said in her sad, woe-is-me voice that usually pulled on teachers’ sympathies rather quickly.
“Well, you can think all you want, Sally,” said Mrs. Kay, “but that’s not going to make me change my mind.” And just like that, she dismissed any more talk of the matter. Mrs. Kay continued her talk about the next day and getting ready for Christmas until the bell rang and she dismissed the class, except for Alex, who she held back.
“Yes, Mrs. Kay? You wanted to see me?” she said hesitantly.
“Ah, yes, Alex. Please, take a seat.” Alex pulled a chair over to her teacher’s desk.
“You didn’t enter anything into the poem contest,” said Mrs. Kay at long last. Alex was surprised to hear what this was about. “I have also received word from your other teachers that you are flunking every class except English in which you have a low ‘D’. I know you’re a smart kid. You have remarkable talent and potential. You used to be doing much better. What happened? You’re slacking in your studies, late to class, missing homework, not finishing projects…what’s gotten into you? I’ve known you since the first grade, Alex, even though I never taught you. You’ve never been this bad.”
Alex wouldn’t look at her teacher. Mrs. Kay was right. She had been so frustrated with herself and her grades that she had begun to give up, and it was beginning to show. Out of all the teachers, Mrs. Kay was the only one who cared for her, and the only one she would even feel remotely bad about disappointing, and she could tell she had…badly. And it hurt, more than she could voice.
“You’re falling apart, Alex.” Then after along pause, “Is there anything you want to talk about?”
Alex could tell she meant well, but she didn’t like anyone prying into her life. “No,” she ground out between her teeth. Mrs. Kay looked at her student with sad, but searching eyes. She could tell she wouldn’t be getting anything out of her pupil and decided it was best to drop the subject.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked. Alex nodded. She wasn’t skiving off after that, no matter how much she wanted to.
“All right, and remember: If you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” Alex nodded again and left, leaving Mrs. Kay frowning in her wake.
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