The Christmas Scout

THE CHRISTMAS SCOUT by Sam Bogan In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year old Frank Wilson was not happy. It was true he had received all the presents he wanted. And he enjoyed the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of exchanging gifts and good wishes. But, Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had together. Frank said good-bye to his relatives and explained to his parents that he was leaving a little early to see a friend; and from there he could walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled. Then Frank headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy Scout troup. Frank always felt understood by him. Though rich in wisdom, he lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived, and his patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family. To Frank's disappointment, his friend was not at home. As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby ... weeping. The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with presents. A sudden thought struck Frank -- he had not done his "good deed" for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door. "Yes?" the sad voice of the woman asked. "May I come in?" asked Frank. "You are very welcome," she said, seeing his sled full of gifts, and assuming he was making a collection, "but I have no food or gifts for you. I have nothing for my own children." "That's not why I am here," Frank replied. "Please choose whatever presents you would like for your children from the sled." "Why, God Bless You!" the amazed woman answered gratefully. She selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane and a puzzle. When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out. Finally, the stockings were full. "Won't you tell me your name?" she asked, as Frank was leaving. "Just call me the Christmas Scout," he replied. The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in his heart. He understood that his sorrow was not the only sorrow in the world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his gifts. The plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy. Now Frank trudged homeward, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to his parents that he had given his presents away? "Where are your presents, son?" asked his father as Frank entered the house. Frank answered, "I gave them away." "The airplaine from Aunt Susan? Your coat from Grandma? Your flashlight? We thought you were happy with your gifts." "I was ---- very happy," the boy answered quietly. "But Frank, how could you be so impulsive?" his mother asked. "How will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much love shopping for you?" His father was firm. "You made your choice, Frank. We cannot afford any more presents." With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back; however he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture joy in his life. He thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. Frank thought of his brother, and sobbed himself to sleep. The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke: "Merry Christmas, everybody! The nicest Christmas story we have this morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled this morning, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts from a teenage boy who simply called himself the Christmas Scout. No one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself." Frank felt his father's arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his mother smiling through her tears. "Why didn't you tell us? We didn't understand. We are so proud of you, son." The carols came over the air again filling the room with music --- "...Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth." Boy Scout Delivers Christmas Stockings For New Babies Thanks For Visiting

Santa's Favorites

Sayings/ Superstitions In Ireland it is believed the gates of Heaven open at midnight on Christmas Eve. Those who die then go straight to Heaven. If you refuse a mince pie at Christmas dinner, you will have bad luck for the coming day. If you eat a raw egg before eating anything else on Christmas morning, you will be able to carry heavy weights. "Snow on Christmas means Easter will be green." "Good luck will come to the home where a fire is kept burning throughout the Christmas season. "Place shoes by side on Christmas Eve to prevent a quarreling family." "A clear star-filled sky on Christmas Eve will bring good crops in the summer." "To have good health throughout the next year, eat an apple on Christmas Eve." "Eat plum pudding on Christmas and avoid losing a friend before next Christmas." "On Chrismas Eve all animals can speak. However, it is bad luck to test this superstition." "The child born on Christmas Day will have a special fortune." "Wearing new shoes on Christmas Day will bring bad luck." "A blowing wind on Christmas Day brings good luck." In Greece, some people burn their old shoes during the Christmas season to prevent misfortunes in the coming year. In the Swedish countryside, from cock crow to daybreak on Christmas morning the trolls (wicked elves) roam about. In Devonshire, England, a girl raps at the henhouse door on Christmas Eve. If a rooster crows, she will marry within the year. You will have as many happy months in the coming year, as the number of houses you eat mince pies in during Christmastime. "Shout 'Christmas Gift' to the first person knocking on your door on Christmas Day and expect to receive a gift from the visitor. A three year old once gave this reaction to her Christmas dinner: "I don't like the turkey, but I like the bread he ate." Quotes "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring-not even a mouse: The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. - Clement C. Moore "I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." - Charles Dickens. "He who has no Christmas in his heart will never find Christmas under a tree." - Sunshine Magazine. "Merry Xmas and a Happy New Year" - John Lennon and Yoko Ono (Christmas 1971). "You might as well do your Christmas hinting early." - Anon. A three-year-old gave this reaction to her Christmas dinner. "I don't like the turkey, but I like the bread he ate." "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 Mother decided that 10-year-old Cathy shoud get something "practical" for Christmas. "Suppose we open a savings account for you?" mother suggested. Cathy was delighted. "It's your account, darling," mother said as they arrived at the bank, "so you fill out the application." Cathy was doing fine until she came to the space for "Name of your former bank." After a slight hesitation, she put down "Piggy." For many of us, sadly, the spirit of Christmas is "hurry". And yet, eventually, the hour comes when the rushing ends and the race against the calendar mercifully comes to a close. It is only now perhaps that we truly recognize the spirit of Christmas. It is not a matter of days or weeks, but of centuries-nearly twenty of them now since that holy night in Bethlehem. Regarded in this manner, the pre-Christmas rush may do us greater service than we realize. With all its temporal confusion, it may just help us to see that by contrast, Christmas itself is eternal. - Burton Hills There was the little boy who approached Santa in a department store with a long list of requests. He wanted a bicycle and a sled, a chemical set, a cowboy suit, a set of trains, a baseball glove and roller skates. "That's a pretty long list," Santa said sternly. "I'll have to check in my book and see if you were a good boy." "Oh no, no, no," the youngster said quickly. "Never Mind checking. I'll just take the roller skates." "I heard the bells on Christmas Day Their old, familiar carols play, And wild and sweet the words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men! - Longfellow Thanks For Visiting

Guessing Time

It's guessing time at our house; every evening after tea We start guessing what old Santa's going to leave us on our tree. Everyone of us holds secrets that the others try to steal, And that eyes and lips are plainly having trouble to conceal. And a little lip that quivered just a bit the other night Was a sad and startling warning that I mustn't guess it right. "Guess what you will get for Christmas!" is the cry that starts the fun. And I answer: "Give the letter with which the name's begun." Oh, the eyes that dance around me and the joyous faces there Keep me nightly guessing wildly: "Is it something I can wear?" I implore them all to tell me in a frantic sort of way And pretend that I am puzzled, just to keep them feeling gay. Oh, the wise and knowing glances that across the table fly And the winks exchanged with mother, that they think I never spy; Oh, the whispered confidences that are poured into her ear, And the laughter gay that follows when I try my best to hear! Oh, the shouts of glad derision when I bet that it's a cane, And the merry answering chorus: "No, it's not. Just guess again!" It's guessing time at our house, and the fun is running fast, And I wish somehow this contest of delight could always last, For the love that's in their faces and their laugh-ter ringing clear Is their dad's most precious present when the Christmas time is near. And soon as it is over, when the tree is bare and plain, I shall start in looking forward to the time to guess again. "Guessing Time" by Edgar Guest "Guessing Time" by Edgar Guest Image source: https://internetpoem.com Thanks For Visiting

Secrets Of Christmas

I think the happiest time of year Surely is Christmas with all it's cheer. Listening to carols being sung Hearing sleigh bells gaily rung. Children with innocent eyes, aglow; Bundled up, to play in the snow. Hoping to see Santa on Christmas night; That jolly old fellow, in crimson and white. Shoppers with packages under their arm Hurrying home where the fire is warm; Hiding the gifts so no one can see; Keeping secrets, trimming the tree. Bows on the puppy; bells on the cat; Grandpa is sporting a red and white hat; Grandma is knitting a holiday vest; All of the children behaving their best. Secrets of Christmas, they think I don't know How Santa gets here, through all of the snow. So I shan't tell them; wont spoil their intentions; But Santa's wife comes along to give him directions! Toni Britton (The Calico's Mom) Nov. 5, 2001 Thanks For Visiting

Humor: No Room

A Modern Story About Christmas with a Happy Ending

Christmas Movie Quotes - Who Said It?

"What Movie "Said" This" Do You know? Here are 10 movie quotes – Can YOU guess the movie from the quote? Try your luck! Who Said It? Each of these phrases is a quote from a Christmas song, TV show, movie or story. Can you remember which Christmas character said it? Click on the green bars to see the answers! "Bah Humbug" Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens' 1843 novel: A Christmas Carol "Don't you cry, I'll be back again some day!" Frosty the Snowman "One can never have enough socks. Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books." Dumbledore in J.K. Rowling's, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!" The Grinch in How The Grinch Stole Christmas "I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really. Maybe it just needs a little love." Linus Van Pelt in A Charlie Brown Christmas "This fog's as thick as peanut butter!" Yukon Cornelius in Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer "The thing about trains... it doesn't matter where they're going. What matters is deciding to get on." The Conductor in The Polar Express "We elves try to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corns and syrup." Buddy the Elf in Elf "You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down." George Bailey in It's a Wonderful Life "Let's face it. We all know that Christmas is a big commercial racket. It's run by a big eastern syndicate, you know." Lucy Van Pelt in A Charlie Brown Christmas How did you do? Try some more Christmas Trivia questions. Or click here to reset this page. Adapted From:XmasFun Thanks For Visiting

Little Piccola

The best Christmas bird story is also a little-known poem by Portsmouth-born writer Celia Laighton Thaxter (1835 – 1894). Shared link at thee end of this story. In the sunny land of France there lived many years ago a sweet little maid named Piccola. Her father had died when she was a baby, and her mother was very poor and had to work hard all day in the fields. Little Piccola had no dolls and toys, and she was often hungry and cold, but she was never sad nor lonely. There were no children for her to play with. She did not have fine clothes and beautiful toys. For, in summer there were always the birds in the forest, and the flowers in the fields and meadows, the birds sang so sweetly, and the flowers were so bright and pretty! In the winter when the ground was covered with snow, Piccola helped her mother, and knit long stockings of blue wool. The snow birds had to be fed with crumbs, if she could find any, and then, there was Christmas Day. But one year her mother was ill and could not earn any money. Piccola worked hard all the day long, and sold the stockings which she knit, even when her own little bare feet were blue with the cold. As Christmas Day drew near she said to her mother, "I wonder what the good Saint Nicholas will bring me this year. I cannot hang my stocking in the fireplace, but I shall put my wooden shoe on the hearth for him. He will not forget me, I am sure." "Do not think of it this year, my dear child," replied her mother. "We must be glad if we have bread enough to eat." But Piccola could not believe that the good saint would forget her. On Christmas Eve she put her little wooden shoe on the hearth before the fire, and went to sleep to dream of Saint Nicholas. As the poor mother looked at the little shoe, she thought how unhappy her dear child would be to find it empty in the morning, and wished that she had something, even if it were only a tiny cake, for a Christmas gift. There was nothing in the house but a few coins, and these must be saved to buy bread. When the morning dawned Piccola awoke and ran to her shoe. Saint Nicholas had come in the night. He had not forgotten the little child who had thought of him with such faith. See what he had brought her. It lay in the wooden shoe, looking up at her with its two bright eyes, and chirping contentedly as she stroked its soft feathers. A little bluebird, cold and hungry, had flown into the chimney and down to the room, and had crept into the shoe for warmth. Piccola danced for joy, and clasped the shivering bird to her breast. She ran to her mother's bedside. "Look, look!" she cried. "A Christmas gift, a gift from the good Saint Nicholas!" And she danced again in her little bare feet. Then she fed and warmed the bird, and cared for it tenderly all winter long; teaching it to take crumbs from her hand and her lips, and to sit on her shoulder while she was working. In the spring she opened the window for it to fly away, but it lived in the woods near by all summer, and came often in the early morning to sing its sweetest songs at her door. Read the poem associated with this story from reknown author Cella Lalghton Thaxter here View another version of this story from Nora A. Smith taking place in Italy..  Thanks For Visiting

Little Match Girl

The short story “The Little Match Girl” is all about the poverty, hunger and helplessness ... It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets. Of course when she had left her house she'd had slippers on, but what good had they been? They were very big slippers, way too big for her, for they belonged to her mother. The little girl had lost them running across the road, where two carriages had rattled by terribly fast. One slipper she'd not been able to find again, and a boy had run off with the other, saying he could use it very well as a cradle some day when he had children of his own. And so the little girl walked on her naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried several packages of matches, and she held a box of them in her hand. No one had bought any from her all day long, and no one had given her a cent. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes fell on her long fair hair, which hung in pretty curls over her neck. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a wonderful smell of roast goose, for it was New Year's eve. Yes, she thought of that! In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, she sat down and drew up her little feet under her. She was getting colder and colder, but did not dare to go home, for she had sold no matches, nor earned a single cent, and her father would surely beat her. Besides, it was cold at home, for they had nothing over them but a roof through which the wind whistled even though the biggest cracks had been stuffed with straw and rags. Her hands were almost dead with cold. Oh, how much one little match might warm her! If she could only take one from the box and rub it against the wall and warm her hands. She drew one out. R-r-ratch! How it sputtered and burned! It made a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, as she held her hands over it; but it gave a strange light! It really seemed to the little girl as if she were sitting before a great iron stove with shining brass knobs and a brass cover. How wonderfully the fire burned! How comfortable it was! The youngster stretched out her feet to warm them too; then the little flame went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the burnt match in her hand. She struck another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and she could see through it into a room. On the table a snow-white cloth was spread, and on it stood a shining dinner service. The roast goose steamed gloriously, stuffed with apples and prunes. And what was still better, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled along the floor with a knife and fork in its breast, right over to the little girl. Then the match went out, and she could see only the thick, cold wall. She lighted another match. Then she was sitting under the most beautiful Christmas tree. It was much larger and much more beautiful than the one she had seen last Christmas through the glass door at the rich merchant's home. Thousands of candles burned on the green branches, and colored pictures like those in the printshops looked down at her. The little girl reached both her hands toward them. Then the match went out. But the Christmas lights mounted higher. She saw them now as bright stars in the sky. One of them fell down, forming a long line of fire. "Now someone is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star fell down a soul went up to God. She rubbed another match against the wall. It became bright again, and in the glow the old grandmother stood clear and shining, kind and lovely. "Grandmother!" cried the child. "Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the match is burned out. You will vanish like the warm stove, the wonderful roast goose and the beautiful big Christmas tree!" And she quickly struck the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than daylight. Grandmother had never been so grand and beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both of them flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear-they were with God. But in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the little girl with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. The New Year's sun rose upon a little pathetic figure. The child sat there, stiff and cold, holding the matches, of which one bundle was almost burned. "She wanted to warm herself," the people said. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone with her old grandmother into the bright New Year. This Janet and Anne Grahame Johnstone illustration photo was salvaged from the 1977 book Dean's "A Book of Fairy Tales." "The Little Match Girl" | Emotional Story for Kids | "The Little Match Girl" is a short story by Danish poet and author Hans Christian Andersen. The story, about a dying child's dreams and hope, was first published in 1845. It has been adapted to various media, including animated and live-action films, television musicals, and video games. Wikipedia Thanks For Visiting

The Stranger Child

BY COUNT FRANZ POCCI [TRANSLATED] There once lived a laborer who earned his daily bread by cutting wood. His wife and two children, a boy and girl, helped him with his work. The boy's name was Valentine, and the girl's name was Marie. They were obedient and pious and the joy and comfort of their poor parents. One winter evening, this good family gathered about the table to eat their small loaf of bread, while the father read aloud from the Bible. Just as they sat down there came a knock on the window, and a sweet voice called: "O let me in! I am a little child, and I have nothing to eat, and no place to sleep in. I am so cold and hungry! Please, good people, let me in!" Valentine and Marie sprang from the table and ran to open the door, saying: "Come in, poor child, we have but very little ourselves, not much more than thou hast, but what we have we will share with thee." The stranger Child entered, and going to the fire began to warm his cold hands. The children gave him a portion of their bread, and said: "Thou must be very tired; come, lie down in our bed, and we will sleep on the bench here before the fire." Then answered the stranger Child: "May God in Heaven reward you for your kindness." They led the little guest to their small room, laid him in their bed, and covered him closely, thinking to themselves: "Oh! how much we have to be thankful for! We have our nice warm room and comfortable bed, while this Child has nothing but the sky for a roof, and the earth for a couch." When the parents went to their bed, Valentine and Marie lay down on the bench before the fire, and said one to the other: "The stranger Child is happy now, because he is so warm! Good-night!" Then they fell asleep.  They had not slept many hours, when little Marie awoke, and touching her brother lightly, whispered: "Valentine, Valentine, wake up! wake up! Listen to the beautiful music at the window." Valentine rubbed his eyes and listened. He heard the most wonderful singing and the sweet notes of many harps. "Blessed Child, Thee we greet, With sound of harp And singing sweet. "Sleep in peace, Child so bright, We have watched thee All the night. "Blest the home That holdeth Thee, Peace, and love, Its guardians be." The children listened to the beautiful singing, and it seemed to fill them with unspeakable happiness. Then creeping to the window they looked out. They saw a rosy light in the east, and, before the house in the snow, stood a number of little children holding golden harps and lutes in their hands, and dressed in sparkling, silver robes. Full of wonder at this sight, Valentine and Marie continued to gaze out at the window, when they heard a sound behind them, and turning saw the stranger Child standing near. He was clad in a golden garment, and wore a glistening, golden crown upon his soft hair. Sweetly he spoke to the children: "I am the Christ Child, who wanders about the world seeking to bring joy and good things to loving children. Because you have lodged me this night I will leave with you my blessing." As the Christ Child spoke He stepped from the door, and breaking off a bough from a fir tree that grew near, planted it in the ground, saying: -- "This bough shall grow into a tree, and every year it shall bear Christmas fruit for you." Having said this He vanished from their sight, together with the silver-clad, singing children -- the angels. And, as Valentine and Marie looked on in wonder, the fir bough grew, and grew, and grew, into a stately Christmas Tree laden with golden apples, silver nuts, and lovely toys. And after that, every year at Christmas time, the Tree bore the same wonderful fruit. And you, dear boys and girls, when you gather around your richly decorated trees, think of the two poor children who shared their bread with a stranger child, and be thankful. Thanks For Visiting

Christmas Superstitions

A Yule Log must not be bought and must be kept burning all night. Christmas candles should be left burning until Christmas morning and should rest undisturbed from time of lighting until they are snuffed. Look to the shadows cast by those gathered round the fire on Christmas night -- if any of these shades appears to lack a head that person will die within the year. Difficulty lighting the fire on Christmas Day is particularly unwelcome, as this predicts a bad year ahead. Christmas cakes were usually eaten on Christmas Eve in the 19th century, though it was deemed most unlucky to cut into one (or any Christmas food) before that day dawned. A portion also had to be preserved until Christmas Day itself. As many mince pies as you sample at different houses during the festive season, so you will have happy months in the year to come. Mince pies must not be cut, however, lest you cut your luck. None must be eaten before Christmas Eve nor after Twelfth Night. If Christmas pudding is on the menu, then all present must take part in stirring it if the household is to prosper. Traditionally, one has to stir the mixture at least three times, seeing the bottom of the pot each time. Even tiny babies take their turn, with parents guiding a little one's hand on the spoon. Unmarried girls who forget to give the pudding its requisite stirs might as well forget about finding a husband in the upcoming year. It's customary to make a wish while stirring Christmas pudding. Such wishes are kept secret until they come true - to speak them to anyone else jinxes them. When making Christmas pudding, drop into a silver coin, a thimble, and a ring. He who is served the coin finds luck, he who retrieves the thimble brings himself prosperity, and he who comes up with the ring hastens a wedding in his family. To find out who your future spouse will be, make a dumb cake at midnight on Christmas Eve. It is prepared in complete silence by one or more, with water, eggs, and salt is placed on the hearthstone with the upper surface of the cake pricked with the initials of one of those present. Provided the silence is unbroken, the future partner of the person indicated on the cake will appear and similarly prick his or her initials onto the cake. In some regions it is instead stipulated that a petitioner must walk backwards to their beds after eating the cooked cake, there to dream of her future spouse. The doors of a home used to be flung open at midnight on Christmas Eve to let out any trapped evil spirits. A Christmas candle left burning in the window all night guarantees the household's good luck in the coming year. If the candles goes out, it is bad luck. The first member of the household to open the door on Christmas morning might well shout, Welcome, Old Father Christmas! to the empty street. In other homes, one might be expected to sweep the threshold with a broom to clear it of trouble. Particularly good fortune will attach to the household if the first visitor on Christmas happens to be a dark-haired man. Thanks For Visiting

A Christmas Wish

I snuggled down into the quilt And held my teddy bear tight. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep On that wondrous Christmas night. I wanted to see Santa Claus When he came into my house. I laid as still as still could be; Becoming quiet as a mouse. I left a note on the window sill; I printed it nice and clear; It meant so very much to me Telling Santa my wish that year. My wish was a very simple one; It was Santa I wanted to see; I wanted to watch as he put our gifts Under the Christmas tree. I heard the reindeer on the roof And Santa's " HO, HO, HO". Quietly leaving my warm safe bed; Down the stairs we two did go. Yes, I got my wish by seeing him; It made my heart so glad; But it was a bit surprising For he looked just like my Dad!  Toni Britton The Calico's Mom October 21, 2001

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Jiminy Cricket Narration

~ May you Always Hold Christmas as a Child in your Memories and in your Heart~