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- Herausgeber: Henss, Ronald
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Kathy’s big brother Robert surprises her with an early Christmas gift she will never forget. A family uses the magic of memories to make it snow. Liam secretly distributes mail that has an amazing effect, Freddie discovers amazing treasure in his Christmas tree and a postman is puzzled by an extraordinary sight when he passes Julius’ house in the morning. These poignant and touching stories capture the essence of our endeavors to rouse the spirit of Christmas. They carry simple but often forgotten messages, appropriate for uncertain times in which we need to rediscover the less tangible things in life that bring us joy and satisfaction. The characters experience ways to ward off despair and discover what makes their lives worthwhile. Their encouraging stories illustrate ways of coping with the human condition and offer a memorable reading experience.
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Seitenzahl: 50
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012
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Christmas Stories
Patricia Koelle
Copyright © by Patricia Koelle
Dr. Ronald Henss Verlag Sudstraße 2 66125 Saarbrücken Germany www.ronald-henss-verlag.de [email protected] © Author: Patricia Koelle © Silhouettes: Hilde Bergmann
Christmas Stories
Patricia Koelle
Kathy’s big brother Robert surprises her with an early Christmas gift she will never forget. A family uses the magic of memories to make it snow. Liam secretly distributes mail that has an amazing effect, Freddie discovers amazing treasure in his Christmas tree and a postman is puzzled by an extraordinary sight when he passes Julius’ house in the morning.
These poignant and touching stories capture the essence of our endeavors to rouse the spirit of Christmas. They carry simple but often forgotten messages, appropriate for uncertain times in which we need to rediscover the less tangible things in life that bring us joy and satisfaction. The characters experience ways to ward off despair and discover what makes their lives worthwhile. Their encouraging stories illustrate ways of coping with the human condition and offer a memorable reading experience.
How to make it snow
„Dad, why is it raining when it’s freezing?“ Sophy stared out the window. The puddles in the garden were frozen, but ordinary rain was falling from the grey sky, not the snow she was waiting for. Dad lit a fire even though it wasn’t dark yet. He didn’t like the wet grey either. Then he came to sit by the window next to Sophy.
“I have no idea” he said.
“In the olden days there was always snow for Christmas”, Grandma Kate claimed and wiped the window pane energetically with an enormous cloth as if that would help.
Grandpa Bob came from the kitchen with a plate in his hand, followed by Sophy’s big brother Chris.
“Look here, Tessa made cookies!” He passed them around. “I know why it isn’t snowing in spite of the cold.”
“Why, Grandpa Bob?” Sophy looked up at him expectantly. He had a beautiful white beard and always treated her as if she were grownup. His stories were exciting. Too bad he lived far away and could only come to visit them for Christmas. When she was small she had thought he was Santa. But now she was seven and knew that Santa would not complain about the price of gasoline.
“The sky is too clean!” announced Grandpa Bob. “I heard it in the radio. You know, snowflakes are tiny crystals that grow when it’s cold. They look like beautiful small stars when you look at them closely.”
“Yes, but why don’t they grow now? It’s cold enough!”
“They need something to grow around. Every snowflake needs a kernel to hold onto, a speck of dust so it can grow. Well, and when there is no dust at all in the air, there can be no snow.”
“I bet Tessa dusted and vacuumed up there, too”, remarked Dad, who didn’t like it when Sophy’s mother cleaned the house from top to bottom before Christmas and turned everything inside out, even his desk.
“And how can we make the sky dusty?” demanded Sophy of Grandpa Bob, who always knew everything.
“We could move to the city, they have dirt in the sky every day from all the factories and cars”, Chris said eagerly. “Nothing ever happens out here anyway.”
“No, no”, protested Grandma Kate, “The city only gives you a cough and bad temper.”
“I already have the bad temper”, Chris pointed out. “It’s boring here. We can’t even build a snowman.”
“Have a cookie, it helps”, Mother said, smiling. She had come in from the kitchen bearing a tray loaded with steaming cups of hot chocolate. “Can’t we do anything about the missing dust in the sky?”
“We could shoot your bellowing vacuum cleaner to the moon, maybe it’ll lose enough dust on the way”, Dad suggested. He pretended to be grumpy, but Sophy saw him winking at mother.
Grandpa Bob cleared his throat. Thoughtfully he peered into the rain. Sophy sat up. When this mysterious look came into Grandpa’s eye, interesting ideas usually followed.
“I’m sure something can be done”, he announced and opened the window. With his finger he swiped around on the sill and in the corners.
“There is no dust on my window sills!” Mother said proudly.
“Oh yes. We’re lucky. There is!” Grandpa Bob held up his gray finger.
“Where does dust come from?” Sophy asked.
“I told you. From the cars and the factories”, said Chris.
“Not only”, Grandpa Bob shook his head. “Dust particles are the memories of Earth.”
“How, Grandpa?” Sophy was puzzled.
“Well, for instance like this: Flowers grow from the earth, and the flowers make pollen dust. And when they wilt and fall to the ground, the petals, too, become dust and only the earth remembers what they were. Birds play in the dust among the flowers and the leaves left over from autumn. This dust here on our window sill fell out of the feathers of the sparrows you fed with crumbs this morning. And…” Grandpa Bob paused dramatically, “here is also some dust left by the angel! You can see that because it glimmers!”
Sophy stared at the dust. Grandpa Bob was right. It glimmered. “What angel?”
“The angel, of course, that picked up your wish list from this window sill, where you put it last night. This angel has to land on many window sills, and every time some dust gathers on his feet and the tips of his wings.”
“And how do we get the dust into the sky?”
“Very simple. We blow! But you have to blow real hard!”
