Foxy's Christmas. A Christmas Story For Children And The Young At Heart
Foxy's Christmas
***
Dear Readers,
I am just popping in quickly with a Christmas present for you and your children. If you don't have any young children, don't go away, as it is also for anyone who is young at heart!
***
Foxy was proud to have been chosen to sit next to the row of books on Mom's bookshelf.
From the bookshelf, he had a grand view of the room and of all who passed by, for Mom's room was at the centre of the house. Foxy had heard her call it a "thoroughfare" in an irritated tone. But Foxy was glad that he hadn't been placed in a quiet corner. From his lookout, he could listen to Lyddie and Ruby tell Mom all about their stories and games. He was admittedly, a bit jealous of two characters named Mr Mushroom and Giraffe, who both seemed to have many adventures.
Foxy was not a store bought toy. Mom had lovingly made him from brown, black, and white wool. He had a little black nose, brown button eyes, and a print bow. If truth be told, he was Mom's favourite. It was quite an honour to be Mom's favourite, as Mom had made many toys over the years. Some had gone to live with Lyddie and Ruby or with Isla and Olga. Others had gone away to cheer up poor and hurting children.
Foxy wasn't sad. There was lots of company in the little house, but he did grow lonely at times. He often wondered what the toys in Lyddie and Ruby's rooms were up to.
Now, Christmas was fast approaching, and Mom got out her crochet hook and lots of brightly coloured wool. You see, Foxy knew this because Mom's stash of wool and supplies was just beneath the bookshelf. His brown button eyes kept watch, sometimes late into the night, as Mom worked.
Once, Foxy nearly fell off of the dictionary he was perched on as he leaned forward to see what Mom was making. After that, he was more careful, but he smiled and hummed Christmas carols merrily to himself as he watched each surprise take shape.
He also saw how Mom quickly hid most of the toys away: they were surprises after all.
But now and again, Mom would pop a new friend on the shelf next to Foxy, and so, Foxy had a jolly time after all.
The little house became even more merry as Jesus' joy spread through it: carols rang out, tinsel and lights glittered, and the Christmas stockings were hung.
"Silent night, holy night!" Sometimes, Mom would sing as her crochet hook flashed in and out. The aroma of Christmas baking filled the air, along with the carols.
Christmas Eve arrived quickly. All of Foxy's new friends had been wrapped, and Foxy felt a little sad again. Mr Octopus was going to bring a smile to Dylan's face, and the teddy bears were excited about their job: they were going to baby Landon.
It was time for Foxy to carry out his plan. He loved Mom, but he simply had to get off of the shelf. So, as Mom and Dad snored, he jumped down to the carpet below and ran to the lounge, hoping that his plan would work.
On Christmas day, the girls were up bright and early.
"Stockings first!" Ruby grinned.
"Yes!" Lyddie agreed. "I can't wait to see our surprises."
Ruby stuck her hand in to her stocking eagerly. "Foxy?" She looked puzzled for a moment, but as she looked at Foxy, she thought she saw a hopeful gleam in his button eyes. "Look Lyddie, I think Foxy wants to join in the fun." She placed him on the carpet. Soon, he was surrounded by new friends from Lyddie and Ruby's stockings.
"Happy Christmas!" Said Foxy.
"Happy Christmas!" Rang the joyful reply.
***
Copyright: Alison Lawrence.
Note: Although I made Foxy and the little octopus myself, the patterns are not my own. Unfortunately, I can't find the links to the patterns. A shout out to their creators. :)
***
Thanks for stopping by! May you have a blessed, Jesus' filled Christmas. See you again in January, God willing.
You can read my testimony Here
***
Ps:
I wrote this story after watching an encouraging video by Lisette, a You Tube friend. Here is the link: A Proverb's Home. Stop Making Excuses
You may also be inspired by her video, as well as her other encouraging content.
Comments
Post a Comment