Story Hour
The Christmas Star
Written by Gene B. Williams
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Stephen felt a cold splat on the back of his head. He spun around and saw his sister, Linda, bending in the snow, making another snowball to throw at him.
"What's the matter, Stephen," she said, laughing. "Is the snow cold?"
In answer he bunched together a handful of snow and tossed it at Linda. It hit her shoulder, causing her to drop the snowball she had just made. Then it was Stephen's turn to laugh. "You tell me how cold it is!"
The air was filled with flying clumps of the soft snow. The snowballs flew through the air, missing the target more often than not. Soon the two were covered with the sticky snow and were weak with laughter.
"Oh, Stephen, look! It's snowing again."
"Let's make angels," he said.
The two plopped down into the snow and began to flap their arms and legs. As soon as each "angel" was made they moved a few feet away to make another, then another, until the ground was populated with them.
The snow fell harder and harder. Soon it was covering up their works of art almost as quickly as they could make them. A cold wind began to blow and turned the moisture on their clothes to icy crystals.
We'd better go in," said Stephen. Linda shivered and agreed. It wasn't much fun playing in such a cold wind.
Inside they watched the snow come down. It fell so thick that they could hardly see the next mountain. Still, it was grand being in the mountains near Christmas. Even the blizzard was exciting. It howled through the trees and occasionally struck at the small cabin with an icy fist.
As the sun made its way behind the trees, and darkness came, the snow was still falling. Father had a big fire in the fireplace. Mother and Linda set up the small manger scene. The flicker of the fire made the star on top of the stable seem almost alive.
"I wish we could outside to play," said Linda.
"Well, it can't snow forever," Stephen commented, wishing the same thing. "Besides, we'll be going home tomorrow."
Linda's eyes sparkled. "Yes. And then we'll have Christmas! Won't it be wonderful? We'll have a big tree, with lots of presents under it."
"Don't forget the turkey," added Stephen.
"With dressing and mashed potatoes and gravy and everything."
Both made sounds, pretending to be enjoying the meal already. The thought of it made the storm outside seem less important. They giggled and talked of what they wanted for Christmas this year.
The radio intruded from the background. The storm showed no signs of stopping, the announcer said. Snow plows were unable to clear the roads. Travel in the mountains was impossible. It would be for several days.
They were snowbound.
"Oh, no," sniffed Linda. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and we'll be stuck here. No turkey, and no presents. Not even a tree."
Stephen was disappointed, too, but was determined to show Linda how grown up he was. "It's okay, Linda. We may get home a few days late, but we'll still have Christmas."
"Some Christmas," she said pouting, and stomped off to her room.
It snowed all that night, and all the next day. As Christmas Eve came, when they should have been celebrating and opening all the brightly wrapped packages, it was still snowing, and blowing. Outside the wind howled at them. It almost seemed to be laughing at them and their disappointment.
Linda was so upset that she locked herself in her room. This just wasn't her idea of a good Christmas. The storm stopped blowing, but she remained in her room. Stephen couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Quietly he knocked on her door.
"Linda," he whispered.
"Go away!"
"Come on, Linda. Cheer up. It's almost Christmas."
"Some Christmas. We don't even have a tree." She sniffed through the door.
An idea came to Stephen. He knew how fond Linda was of the small manger scene. "Linda, I have a present for you."
The door cracked just a little, and Linda peeked out with red eyes. "A present? How?"
He reached in and took her hand. "Just come with me," he said. Together they walked down the hall, past the fireplace and to the big window of the cabin. Stephen pointed outside. "Look. The storm has stopped. See how clear it is outside."
"Look up into the sky," he said. The stars shined like thousands of specks of white paint on a black sheet.
Linda looked at him, puzzled. "They're just stars," she said grumpily.
"No, not just stars. Jesus was born under a star, like on the manger scene. So, for my Christmas present to you, I'm giving you any one of those stars you want. It'll be your Christmas star - all your very own."
Linda looked at her brother, then back at the sky. Suddenly her eyes widened and sparkled. "That one!" she squealed. "That one right one over there. It looks just like the star on the manger scene. That will be my Christmas star."
Stephen felt a tingle of pleasure on his skin. He didn't even mind when Linda hugged him and gave him a wet kiss on his cheek.
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