A Little Christmas Fairy Tale



By J.W. Burton

Once upon a time, there was a little Christmas fairy. She was a beautiful little Christmas fairy! Her lips were as pink as sugar mice, and her eyes were holly-green, like the holly sprig she wore. Her curly hair was a mane of spun gold, and her wings shimmered liked feathered frost. Her dress had a garland of roses, and was woven from golden beams that had shone from the very first Christmas Star. Her skin was covered with gleaming stars like sunlight on fresh snow, and she glowed with Christmas cheer.

The little Christmas fairy was hidden away for most of the year, making decorations for Santa Claus and his elves to scatter in the Christmas skies. She spun tiny gold stars and silver snowflakes that glittered and shone, flying here and there in flurries and fountains wherever the night was darkest. In the bleakness of December, the little Christmas fairy’s work could be seen piercing the cold night. Her magical little lights hung in the night sky, winking down at the earth, and racing in shooting showers over the heads of the people far below.

But the people did not see the Christmas fairy’s tiny lights. They did not see the love she had spun into each little piece, or the time that she spent over each one, to get it just right. But Holly-Rose, the little Christmas fairy, knew how much love she put into them, and she loved her work, and she loved the people she scattered her handiwork over.

Best of all, Holly-Rose loved Christmas time. She loved to fly above the darkened world and throw her joyful little stars and silver snowflakes onto anybody who needed some cheer in the night. Sometimes, she would spend a little time with the lonely and forgotten people, and try to warm them a little with her golden Christmas light.

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Bernard, a Very Brave Bear


By M.P. Witwer

Max was excited. Bubbie was coming over, and Mommy said she was bringing a surprise for him! He could barely wait to find out what it might be.

He thought hard. Maybe it would be a toy truck or a new ball — or maybe even some Legos. Whatever it was, Max knew it would be great, because Bubbie always picked the best presents.

After what seemed like hours and hours, Max finally heard someone climbing the steps. It had to be Bubbie! He ran to the front hall but waited for Mommy to open the door, just as she had taught him.

“Bubbieeeee!” he squealed, bouncing over to his grandmother as soon as she stepped inside. Setting down her purse and the big box she was carrying, she scooped Max up in a hug. This was the best part, because Max liked hugs from Bubbie more than anything else. He felt safe and protected in her arms, and now snuggled against her, for the moment forgetting any thoughts of what she had brought him.

“How’s my favorite grandchild today?” she asked, tousling his already messy hair.

As he always did, Max giggled at the question. He had to be Bubbie’s favorite, since he was her only grandchild.

She lowered him to the floor, then picked up the box. Max studied it with renewed curiosity. It was bigger than a toy truck, not the right shape for a ball, and didn’t rattle like Legos. His excitement started to bubble up again.

“Let’s sit on the couch,” Bubbie suggested. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Continue reading