All I Want For Christmas

All I Want For Christmas

  All I Want for Christmas by Rand Hunter Kreycik © 2013.  All rights reserved. I vaguely remember our first Christmas as a family without Dad.  The previous Christmas had been spent at my grandmother’s in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where she was attending beauty school.  It was my mother, father, sister, and me – enjoying Christmas Day at Grandma’s apartment.  We had never been there before, and it was a joy to see her and to be in her home.  I don’t remember much about the dinner, though it must have been a feast.  What I do remember is the toys and being together as a family.  My grandmother was a great music fan, so we would have been listening to Chmost likely Perry Como, Jim Reeves, and Bing Crosby.  It was a magical day that stays enfolded in my memory like a pungent pine bough in a blanket of snow. http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/AIWFC.mp3 The next year could not have been more different.  My parents had divorced, my mother, sister, and I had moved from our family cattle ranch to nearby Valentine, Nebraska, and the world as I had known it had exploded. It was Christmas Eve, and my grandmother was now living with us temporarily.  I remember many, many gifts.  Christmas music was playing this time also – but my mother’s choices:  Elvis Presley, Patty Page, and Glen Campbell.  The tree was radiant in the darkness of our living room, and we ate candy, opened gifts, and played with our toys and games until late into the night.  I still remember sitting in the midst of my train track,...
Fit For a King

Fit For a King

Fit For a King By Christina Jones Everyone gathered inside of the tiny church for what was supposed to be the best Christmas Eve service that they’ve ever had. There were promises of cookies and hot cocoa. The pastor lit the solitary room with candles and the piano played softly in the background. Slowly, everyone took his or her seat, waiting for the service to begin. They were cold and ready to get home already. You could hear the reverberation from everyone’s quiet chatter. http://wholesomeprose.com/hp_wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Fit-For-A-King-Final.mp3 “The night before our savior’s birth!” A voice boomed through the front door. It was the pastor, Mitchell. He was holding a large brown box. The wind from outside began whipping both doors against the walls and the snow was making its way inside. “Some storm we’re having,” Mitchell said. Setting the box down gently, he grabbed both doors and secured them tightly, shutting out the winter. “I’m sure glad that you’re all here. I was worried for a bit. You know, with the storm and all.” He said. The congregation looked at him and then back at the box, curious to know what was inside. “I’m sure that you’re all wondering what I’ve got in the box. Well, this isn’t what I had originally planned but then the storm hit and God lead me to a different plan. So, I had to grab a few things.” He said. The room sat quiet, more so than usual. They were all anxious to see what the pastor brought for the sermon. The box wasn’t big enough to hold a manger and you wouldn’t put that...