Christmas Stories

Christmas being a popular festival,
many authors have opted for the festival as the backdrop of their
fiction. Some of these stories have become so popular that they have
been told and retold again and again and are being taught in schools as
part of the curriculum for kids. Some of them being :The Gift Of The
– by O’ Henry, A Christmas Carol – by Charles Dickens,
A Visit From St. Nicholas – by Clement Clarke Moore. We have
brought you one such popular story for enjoyable reading and also get
food for thought about the real purpose of this festival:

A Visit From St. Nicholas – by Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas‘, when all through the house, not a
creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the
chimney with care, In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of
sugar-plums danced in their heads; And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in
my cap, had just settled down for a long winter’s nap, When out on the
lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was
the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the
shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gave the luster of
mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, With a little old
driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and
shouted, and called them by name: "Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now,
top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash
away all!"

"As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet
with an obstacle, mount to the sky, so up to the house-top the coursers
they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then,
in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each
little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, down the chimney St.
Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to
his foot, and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A
bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like a peddler
just opening his pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were
like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up
like a bow, and the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The
stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled
his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly, that shook, when he
laughed like a bowl full of jelly. He was chubby and plump, a right
jolly old elf, and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; A wink
of his eye and a twist of his head, soon gave me to know I had nothing
to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, and filled all the
stockings; then turned with a jerk, Laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, and away they all
flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, as he drove
out of sight.

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