Our Twelve Days Before Christmas (eBook)

Christopher White (Autor)

eBook Download: PDF

2003 | 1. Auflage
200 Seiten
ECW Press (Verlag)
978-1-55490-614-7 (ISBN)

Infos

A hilarious and moving account of one family's frantic countdown to Christmas Eve. Follow in the author's footsteps as he wrestles with giant Christmas trees, scrambles to get to his children's concerts, is swallowed up by the mobs in the mall, sings his choirs first tentative attempt at Handel's Messiah and enters into a desperate nationwide search for goats for his church's Christmas pageant. Christmas is a time of joy and memories, memories that are both sweet and tinged with sadness. In this book we share both the happiness and the grief that can accompany this season. Our Twelve Days of Christmas is a book that will resonate with every family, as it shares a story that is both unique and universal, a story of family and the genuine meaning of this holiday.

Textauszug

On the Twelfth Day before Christmas, my true love gave to me, an eight-foot, enormous pine tree. Twelve days! I have twelve days left to create the Christmas to end all Christmases, a Christmas that even Charles Dickens would salute. There is, of course, only one place to begin: the tree. The selection of the Christmas tree is the critical single event that defines the whole season. Pick just the right one, and joy abounds. Your children ooh and aah. Your spouse looks upon you with pride. Your neighbours gather to pay you homage. But get it wrong, and woe betide you. Your children will peer sadly at its drooping branches, its gaping holes, and your half-hearted remarks about a Charlie Brown Christmas tree will pass unnoticed. Your spousal unit will give you that steely eyed look signifying that if you were a hockey player you would be on the trading block for the rights to a spouse to be named later. The pressure is on, and you must respond to the challenge. The first issue is where to get the tree. Some will suggest that there is nothing more bracing, no activity more in keeping with the spirit of the season, than getting everyone into the car and going to a cut-your-own tree farm. Yes, you, the latter-day urban lumberjack, can stride through the fields, pick out the tree, and fell it with a few quick draws of the saw. But beware: there are hidden complications when you cruise through a tree farm. My wife and I discovered that for ourselves, just after we were married. We wanted to start our own tradition, one that would distinguish our household right from the beginning. Feeling that close newlywed emotional bond, we drove out to where I was sure there was a cut-your own tree farm. Finding it hidden away among the concession roads northeast of Toronto proved to be the first hurdle of our adventure. We got lost. To be truthful, I got us lost. But I did have some assistance. Mildly critical words were exchanged in the car, a map was sent flying in the direction of my head, and when we finally arrived it wasn't just the weather that was a tad chilly. But we cheered up and walked and walked and walked some more, examining each tree judiciously until we found the Scotch pine that seemed perfect. Feeling like a true Canadian lumberjack, I started to saw away at the trunk . . . and then the blade got stuck a third of the way through. Wrenching the sa free, I approached the tree from the other side. Again the blade got stuck. My image as a manly, capable male, a hewer of wood and drawer of water, was taking a beating. I hacked away at the evergreen with growing desperation, until finally I yelled 'Timber!' and proudly watched our five-foot tree sail gracefully to earth. We hauled it out of the bush and tied it on top of our hatchback. With that sense of pride that comes from surviving the primeval forces of nature, we took it home. Back at the house, as we prepared to put the tree up, I noticed in the centre of the trunk, right in the middle, what appeared to be a bird's nest. 'How wonderful,' I thought. 'Just the place to put our ceramic doves.' The next morning it became clear that the birds had flown and another of God's creatures had taken up habitation. I was in the kitchen making toast when out of the corner of my eye a small brown blur appeared and then disappeared as if by magic. I shook my head. I must have imagined it. Later that night I heard a scratching sound - now, apparently, my ears were playing tricks on me. By the next day, we had irrefutable proof that we were no longer the sole occupants of our home. We had a roomie, a small, furry creayire with a tail, athat no doubt

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 30.10.2003
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Themenwelt: Schulbuch / Wörterbuch ► Lexikon / Chroniken
• Themenwelt: Religion / Theologie ► Christentum ► Kirchengeschichte
• Themenwelt: Religion / Theologie ► Christentum ► Liturgik / Homiletik
• ISBN-10: 1-55490-614-8 / 1554906148
• ISBN-13: 978-1-55490-614-7 / 9781554906147