Another Christmas Down the Chimney (standard:humor, 902 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Dec 21 2025	Views/Reads: 0/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Not everything turns out the way we plan. I haven’t had a Christmas like this, but there have been times when I thought everything was going the wrong way. It’s times like this that I need to focus not on what’s going wrong but on God. My faith in God get

If I have counted correctly, this is my 74th Christmas. Believe me, I do
not remember all of them. The only thing is how much money I spent on 
all of those Christmases. 

I know Christmas is filled with rituals. As a young person, I grew up on
rituals. Our best ritual was on Christmas. 

For instance, the day before Christmas, my father would get a real
Christmas tree. On Christmas Eve, we would all gather to decorate it. 
Then, on New Year's Day, we would take down the decorations, and my 
father would move the tree outside to the backyard. Our backyard was 
filled with Christmas trees. 

The day before Christmas, my mother and I would go Christmas shopping
from early morning until late afternoon. She knew every shop and 
exactly what to buy in each. She worked on that list for months and was 
excited to receive all the gifts on it. 

I remember one Christmas, after a full day of shopping, our car was
packed with presents. I don't know how much my mother spent, but it 
must've been a lot. 

On our way home, my mother remembered something she had forgotten. 

She turned around and went back to a store for Christmas cards she had
forgotten. We both went in, and my mother bought about 20 cards. As we 
left, she sighed and said, "Son, it's been a busy day—I'm glad it's 
over. I can't wait to get home." I agreed. 

We would take these Christmas presents home, and when my siblings and I
went to bed, my dad and mom would wrap all the gifts and put them under 
the tree. 

As we approached the car, I noticed one of the back doors was not fully
closed. 

“Mom,” I said, “did we leave the back car door open?” 

Mother looked and said, “We sure did not leave any door open.” 

When we went into the store for the Christmas cards, the car was filled
with all kinds of Christmas presents we spent all day collecting. 

When we got to the car and opened the door, the inside was empty. All
our Christmas shopping for the day had disappeared. My mother looked 
inside the car and could not believe what she saw. Or, maybe I should 
say she couldn't believe what she wasn't seeing. 

Suddenly, my mother sighed, and tears ran down her cheeks. She looked at
me and said, “Oh, what are we going to do?” It was too late to shop 
again, the stores closed early, and shopping time was over. 

My mother stood just staring into that car for what felt like forever. I
could feel her grief hanging heavily between us. I didn't know what to 
do. I felt helpless, wishing I could comfort her, but no words seemed 
right. Someone broke into our car and stole all our Christmas presents, 
leaving us with nothing but shock and a deep, hollow ache. 

On our way home, my mother was relatively quiet. Usually, she's quite
the chatterer, but today she hardly spoke at all. 

We got home, walked into the living room, and saw the Christmas tree
waiting to be decorated. Dad greeted us and said, “Where's all the 
Christmas presents?” 

Without saying anything, my mother walked in and sat down, and was quiet
for a few moments. Then she looked at my father and said, “Someone 
stole all our Christmas presents while we were in the last store.” 

My father just stared at her, shook his head, and said quietly, “What
are we to do now?” 

After a relatively quiet dinner that night, we went into the living room
and began decorating the Christmas tree. No one talked as usual; we 
just put together all the decorations. 


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