FESTIVE SPECIAL Stories and illustrations from readers
A huge thank you from the Words & Pictures editorial team for sharing your festive stories and Illustrations! What a way to to get us all in the mood for the Holiday season.
Spread One
The most curious sight I ever did see,
was a reindeer in Heathrow, Terminal Three.
We’d checked in our cases, even teddy too,
when Rudolph trotted past the security queue!
Spread Two
On velvety antlers, dangled twinkly lights,
that sparkled like stardust on a cold winter’s night.
On a holly green harness, were jingly bells,
that danced as she pranced as if under a spell.
Spread Three
From her mouth hung a hat, as red as a berry,
with a snowy white pom-pom that was festively merry.
And stitched on the side in swirly gold thread,
were three magic letters that sparkled when read.
[Mr C]
Spread Four
Trotting past restaurants and weary eyed kids,
Rudolph ran t’wards the runway with a hop and a skid.
But alas!
Just as the reindeer had almost departed,
my Gran dropped her glasses, bent over and farted!
Spread Five
Jet engines rumbled.
Windows shook.
Tinsel fluttered down like glittery soot…
Rudolph snorted and quivered in fright, then scampered away into the night.
Spread Six
Collecting Gran’s glasses, we strolled past the shops,
As Gran asked...”Did I make the airport come to a stop?”
But there was no time for answers, there was no time for chat,
I squealed and I pointed,
“LOOK!”
“Rudolph's dropped Santa’s hat!”
Spread Seven
I chased the red reindeer, Santa’s hat in hand,
dodging robot hoovers and big bleeping vans.
I followed the patter of cantering hooves,
passing plenty of planes, I ran faster than wolves.
Spread Eight
Then, at the foot of the runway, I saw Rudolph, Blitzen and Comet,
as all Santa’s reindeer got ready to rocket!
“Wait! Santa, your hat!” I waved it high in the air.
I stretched my arm long, as tall as a bear.
Spread Nine
But I was too little.
Santa was too far away.
I knew in my heart I couldn’t save Christmas Day.
Spread Ten
Just as my hopes started to sink,
Gran arrived with a mischievous wink....
“I’ve eaten my sprouts, I’m ready to thunder!”
….Then she let rip a brussels fart wonder!
Spread Eleven
Jet engines rumbled.
Windows shook.
Santa's eyes widened like baubles, as he turned and he looked!
Spread Twelve
“You brought my hat back! What a wonderful sight!
You fabulous pair, you’ve saved Christmas night!”
Then we hitched us a lift upon Santa’s sleigh,
in time to see family on our Christmas Day.
Santa’s Sleigh illustration Alina Manolache
Christmas Cheerby Tony Kernow
“Mum! There’s a reindeer in the garden!”
“Really?”
“Yes! It’s eating the sprouts.”
“Who let a reindeer in our garden?”
Mum ran outside clutching a carrot to distract the reindeer.
Knock! Knock!
I tapped the kitchen window.
“There’s someone at the door.”
“Can you answer itI” she mouthed while guiding the reindeer off the veg patch.
On the doorstep, a grumpy delivery driver.
“Um… is your mum in?”
“She’s trying to get a reindeer off our garden.”
“‘Course she is(!) Who owns that sleigh? Can’t get my van past.”
“No idea.”
I shut the door because I hear muffled shouting from the front room. A large red- faced man with a fluffy white beard is sprawled on the carpet.
“Are you a burglar?”
“Do I look like a burglar?”
“Yes. But you look like Santa too.”
“Sorry, if I startled you. It was that mischievous Chief Elf.”
“Elf?”
“He wanted to come on the sleigh ride this year. But it’s not his turn. So he banished me from the Pole. He said—“
“If I can’t enjoy Christmas no one can?”
The man sat up.
“I know where your sleigh and your reindeer are.”
I took him into the garden.
“Who’s that?”
“I’m Father Christmas, terribly sorry about your veg.”
I grin. “I’m not complaining, don’t like sprouts.”
“Ah, but sprouts are good—“
“Don’t you start, Santa!”
Mum helps Santa lead the reindeer out of our garden onto the road.
The delivery driver is on the phone.
“No, don't worry, Santa’s come to move the sleigh. I'm not messing about—“
Santa moves the sleigh off the road.
A crowd starts to gather.
“Santa’s here!”
“It’s one of his helpers.”
“What’s he doing on our estate?”
Santa looks worried.
“I’m not supposed to be seen. I need some magic to get back into the air again.
Some good cheer.”
“Would some singing cheer you up? We’re not great singers, but we go carol singing to raise money for the food bank.”
“Do you think they could sing me on my way?”
“Definitely.”
We sang an impromptu concert of carols and Christmas songs. A warm glow began to surround the sleigh.
“It’s working,” Santa beamed.
As we sang the sleigh rose up into the air. People got their phones out to film the magical sight.
“Thank you everyone. Ho Ho Ho, merry Christmas.”
The sleigh zoomed up into the sky like a rocket.
The Lost Glove by Brigita Orel
The park was buzzing with children building snowmen and having snowball fights. Mum suggested Anya join them, but how when she didn’t know any of them? The thought that she would spend the Christmas holidays without her friends and her dad made her stomach feel tied in knots.
She looked out the window again and noticed something on the pavement. A lost glove. Whose could it be? She spread her fingers in front of the glass. Maybe her size?
She ran down the steps and pulled on her jacket. Trudging through fresh snow, she left deep footprints behind her.
The glove was indeed her size, with red and white stripes. She picked it up, brushing off the snowflakes. The footsteps that led up to it continued towards the park. Anya followed them with her gaze nervously. Since they’d moved here, she hadn’t left the house. She was just too sad and angry that her parents had separated.
Her nose and ears were going numb from the cold wind. Whoever lost the glove must be freezing.
She set off down the street, the blinking Christmas lights egging her on. The traces went to the frozen pond where they vanished in the trampled snow.
How would she find the glove owner with so many people there? Then she saw a girl. Her breath misted before her face as she blew into her hands. One of them was gloveless.
Anya was about to leave the glove for the girl to find and go when the girl saw her.
“Hello.”
She was as tall as Anya and her hair was red.
“Is this yours?” Anya stammered.
“Thank you!” The girl grabbed the glove from Anya.
“You lost it in front of my house,” Anya said.
The girl looked in the direction Anya came from. “I haven’t seen you before. I live that way, too. I’m Iris.” She spoke so fast Anya barely followed.
“I just moved,” Anya said. “I start at the local school after the holidays.”
“Do you want to go skating?” Iris asked.
What if Mum was looking for her? But she’d encouraged her to go out.
“I can’t skate,” she said.
“Come, I’ll show you,” Iris said, taking hold of her hand. Then she added, “I hope we’re in the same class.”
Has she just made a friend? Anya smiled. “Me, too. I’m Anya.”
Baldur’s Gate check & inspect illustration Marissa Domantay
Merry Christmas all!
The Words & Pictures Editorial team
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