16 x December 20, 2018 — January 9, 2019 x www.SouthwestOrlandoBulletin.com CONTINUED FROM PAGE 15 looked forward to a good night’s rest before Christmas Day. Early Christmas morning, the pair began preparing their holiday meal. A persistent banging at the front door caused them to pause and seek out the source of the commotion. Ray opened the front door, and a very thin and bedraggled gray cat dashed inside their house. It ran into the couple’s bedroom, jumped on their bed, curled up on a pillow, and fell fast asleep. After being gone for several months, Tuffy had returned home for Christmas. The couple never learned of Tuffy’s adventures, but they were satisfied to know he had returned to their laps of love. Honorable Mention Winter Wonderland by Chloe Lynn South Bay Sleigh bells ring, are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. A beautiful sight, We’re happy tonight, Walking in a winter wonderland. Every winter, I’ve dreamt of a holiday season such as this one, full of beautiful powdery snow that would make the whole world glisten. I’ve dreamt of the smell of pine that would infiltrate every nook and cranny of the town, of having jovial snowball fights with friends and sledding down mountains of white. Every winter, the picture-perfect paradise of my thoughts failed to come. Every winter, the sun would smother the cold asphalt with its fiery rays, no matter the circumstances. Every winter, that is, until a few years back. When I saw snow for the first time, I was completely unprepared. The bright white blinded me. The snow was wet, and I wanted to curl up by the fire and drink hot chocolate as soon as I stepped outside. I was slightly devastated. How could my dream come true, only for me to figure out it wasn’t what I wanted at all? Gone away, is the bluebird. Here to stay, is the new bird. He sings a love song, As we go along, Walking in a winter wonderland. All of my previous ideas of sparkling white winters flew out of my head like a caged bird finally being freed. I realized that a winter wonderland doesn’t have to be full of snow. A winter wonderland can be full of tender sunlight that embraces and warms you both physically and spiritually, of weather that is cool enough to sit by the fire and enjoy being with friends and family yet warm enough to go outside and relax after a nice satisfying meal, and of playing outside without having to wear 10 layers of clothing. Now, every winter, I sigh contentedly at the beautiful trees that maintain their leaves all through the year. Every winter, I no longer pray for snow. Every winter, I feel grateful that I was born in my perfect winter wonderland of Orlando, Florida. Honorable Mention The Man Behind It All by Ayna Ghulldu Brentwood Club It was a cold winter day. Icy cotton flecks sprinkled from the sky, small bells chirped like birds, and the smell of mint and ginger crawled in the air. It was that time of the month, and he needed to start making final preparations. He had a list of things to do as long as the Arctic Ocean surrounding where he lived. This was the time of year they had all been waiting for, and although they were nervous, their excitement was building. His little friends had been working hard all year to cross things off the list. He walked over to his workshop and took a look at the new transportation model they were making for him. It was red and green with shiny silver bells at the sides. The handles were curling up like the swirling skies, and the bars at the sides were blinding. There was no doubt, it was better than last year’s. But there was one problem, Dasher was sick and wouldn’t be able to help support it. He took a step outside to gather his thoughts. A rush of balsam filled his nose. He never got tired of the winter scents. Just as he was about to step back inside, his wife called out, “Honey, I made cookies.” Joy filled him. Oh, how he loved it when his wife made cookies. He walked into the house and sat down with some cookies. He took a bite, and the ginger flavor melted in his mouth. The moment didn’t last forever. His eyes flew to a toy plane that was broken from last Christmas. Then, an idea shot into his brain. He would use a motor to replace Dasher. It wouldn’t be the most traditional Christmas, but it would work. His little friends got to work while he checked on the presents being made. The workshop was decorated with all the colors you could imagine. In the middle was a big Christmas tree with bulbs of all shapes — small bulbs, circular bulbs, curly bulbs, shiny bulbs. At the very top was where his attention was drawn. A bright, big, golden star sat on top. The decorations never failed to surprise him. He stepped back and saw Dancer and the rest of the herd. They went over what was going to happen like they did every year. The big day was coming in less than 24 hours, and one by one, he was crossing things off his list. The adrenaline was growing inside him by the minute. No matter how many times he did this, it never got old, and he was sure it never would. The reindeer, his sleigh and the presents were ready. He said goodbye to his little friends and was about to leave when his wife said, “Don’t forget your hat.” “Thank you, Mrs. Claus,” he said. “Anytime, Santa,” she said with a wink. Then, he grabbed his hat, sat in his sleigh, and he was off! “Now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch. To the top of the wall. Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, all!” Honorable Mention The Tiniest of Miracles by Tabitha A. Eastham Forest Ridge Her father had developed the disease a few years before. Slowly, it was robbing him of his bubbly personality and warm memories. Over the years, there were so many special memories they had made together, but one by one, they were disappearing like sand running through an hourglass. Christmas had always been his favorite time of year. The sights, smells and sounds were all things that he reveled in. Yet this year was much different. Lately, he found it difficult to remember the people nearest and dearest to him, let alone the memories that he had ascertained over Christmases past. Despite his recent less-than-lucid state, Hannah was determined to make this the best Christmas ever for her father. She donned the tree with the same lights and festive adornments as every other year. She made the same sweet cookie recipes that she had seen her father make at least 100 times over. Everything was the same as every Christmas before — everything except him. Unlike every Christmas before, on this particular holiday, he didn’t know her identity. It saddened her that she, too, had joined the ranks of friends and loved ones that her father no longer recognized. Unfortunately, it was a reality that she had to face. Christmas Eve was quickly approaching. Hannah worked hard to maintain an uplifting attitude for her dad. She didn’t want her disappointments to, in anyway, damper his celebration. For this reason, she wrapped all the presents, invited the family over, and made sure that things were set for the season. On Christmas Eve, the family got ready to attend their church’s annual Christmas Eve candlelight service. The service came and went quickly. The Scripture was read, the candles were lit, and the carols were sung. One by one, they all filed out of the church and headed home. This had always been her father’s favorite part of Christmas, but throughout the service, he hadn’t smiled at all. He didn’t even sing along with the carols. She really truly had failed at making Christmas enjoyable for him. The next morning, the entire house awoke to participate in the Christmas festivities. Breakfast was eaten, and presents were opened. Laughter and merriment were had. When all was said and done, one gift remained underneath the tree — a small square box with a tag that read, “To: Dad. From: Santa.” Hannah handed the tiny square box to her father, and she watched as he struggled to tear off the paper in order to reveal its contents. Once the outer paper was shed, her father opened the lid. There, in the bottom of the square box, was a tiny plastic Nativity scene. Her father pressed the button on its front, and the most majestic Christmas carol began playing. He smiled with the biggest, brightest smile they had seen from him in a long while. At that moment, Hannah knew that her father truly had experienced a great Christmas. CONTINUED ON PAGE 18
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