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It's December 25th and I am so, so happy!!!
This was going to be up earlier but life happened. Hopefully its not After-Christmas for any of you.
God is very good to us. We always have good Christmases. Even if the weeks before aren't so great Christmas Day itself is always very happy and successful. We're lucky that way.
We had Midnight Mass in our house. We got everything decorated all perty and we sang all the main prayers and it was incredibly beautiful. It was the perfect beginning for Christmas Day. At 5:30 in the morning little children came running into my room, whispering excitedly that is was CHRISTMAS and I had to GET UP!
I was up till 1:30 and got up at FIVE THIRTY you guys.
I really love my little sisters.
After I'd had ten cups of coffee or so I felt ready to have fun. By this time the rest of the family was getting up to. (everyone stayed the night of Christmas Eve so practically the whole family was there in the morning. It was brilliant!!) We lit the Christ Candle on the Advent wreath and sang Joy to the World Just like we always do. Then we randomly sang happy birthday to Jesus. Something we've never done before. I won't lie. It was a little weird. I liked it it was just kind of weird. Cause HAPPY BIIIIIIIRTHDAAAAAAY DEAR JESUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS! I don't know. It seemed a little weird. But It is His Birthday after all.
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| Parker - Leverage |
After welcoming the Christ-Child into the world we all went into the living room and sat around the stockings while my dad passed around delicious buns stuffed with sausage. They were delicious.
I had another cup of coffee.
Then we got down to opening up the Pressies.
OH MY GOSH GUYS I GOT SO MANY LOVELY PRESSIES!!!!
I got all this epic GEEK STUFF!! It was SO FUN!!!!! Mahri got me this lovely TARDIS hat and I got these cool charms that you can hang on your purse or key chains (if you have key chains) and I got Season One of Doctor Who (Courtesy of my friend Jimmy) and I got this cool Arthur Pendragon Necklace (Courtesy of Anna) and this EPIC little TARDIS and Screwdriver and I got two Taylor Swift CD's and a music book to go with them! And I got The King of Attolia!! And Guys I freaking got a Video. Editing. Programme!
SISTERS YOU BE DE BEST!!!
Le me with Taylor Stuff.
Le fabulous TARDIS hat. Hand-made by my fabulous sister Mahri
Le Epic DVD's: Supernatural, Doctor who, BUCKY!! Winter Soldier)
Le me hugging Epic DVD's tightly, cause they are miIIIIne
Le me with OTP shirt (shipping anything. Anywhere. Anytime.)
I will wear this with honour.
We had Gnocci and Ham and drank lovely drinks and ate lovely eats and altogether had a very relaxing and blessed day. We finished off by watching How to Train Your Dragon 2 which had been a gift to Chloe. That. Hurt.
Lots.
But enough of sadness. I'm going to post something for you today, something I promised. A CHRISTMAS STORY!!! *drum roll*
This is my first 'short story'
It's rough.
Very rough.
It needs a ton of work.
But I tried my best.
And I promised.
So here you go.
Be Kind.
THE SOUND OF THE DRUMS
She
was a fine Lassie with wild red hair and a soft, quiet laugh and a
smile that made her look the picture of true innocence. She was a
sight to behold and she was beheld above all by the young drummer boy
dressed in blue with a feather in his hat and a red vest around his
shoulders.
Ah
he did fancy the lassie. She was so very lovely. She was like a
delicate fire flower blowing in the breeze of a new spring morning.
There was no single one who caught his sight quite like she did.
Early
in the morning he would come by her house, drumming the steady beat
into his drum and singing a good morning to the world. The lass would
lean out the window and;
“Good
morning lass.” said he.
“Good
morning drummer boy.” said she.
Down
would swing his hat and out would swing his little tin cup and drop,
a strand of the lassies fair hair would drop into it.
“much
obliged.” would say he. She would close the latch on the window and
on would go the hat on his head and off he would trip, humming and
drumming and calling “good morning!” into the frost air.
The
lassie would lean against the closed window. And smile.
It
was late December and the air was close to freezing. The drummer boy
was up for his early rounds before the sun came up, whistling and
drumming on his drum.
“good
morning to all! Good morning to all!”
Out
leaned the Lassie, her hair washing down like a waterfall. “Good
morning, drummer boy!”
“'morning
Lassie.”
“Would
you mind very much if I asked you a question, drummer boy?”
“I
would answer you anything, Lassie.”
The
window swung shut and the door came open. The Lassie stepped onto the
cobblestones.
When
she went back in again, the Drummer Boy had gone over all queer and
had to sit down to steady his nerves. To think the Lassie would ask
him such a thing! Dinner with her family! After all this time... He
tapped and anticipative tune on his drum and as the last notes rang
out he smiled. Over his shoulder went the merry drum on off he went,
whistling gaily to himself.
Tomorrow
night!
It
so happened that as the next evening fell the wind grew cold and
still and the stars were choked by the thick coatings of clouds
threatening the soon-coming storm. He pulled on his vest and scarf
and swung his little drum into a pack which he placed over his
shoulder. He would have to hurry to get to the Lassie on time.
The
air was as cold as ever out the doors. The wind picked up and howled
in anguish, a terrifying noise to behold. The Drummer boy tucked up
his collar and bared his head against the weather. It was an eerie
night. He hummed to himself.
The
music was taken by the wind and lingered for a minute over a group of
young shepherds heading home. They were brothers, these shepherds.
They were all good to each other, all but the youngest one who would
complain about the cold without stop. He was an idiotic, pain of a
child and all the older boys had had just about enough of him.
They
were headed home now, talking and laughing and enjoying one another's
company. Behind them the Little Shepherd lagged behind. He was angry
with his brothers. They had been perfectly brutal to him lately and
he thought they deserved some sort of comeuppance. An idea came into
his head and he slowed his pace more and more gradually until his
brothers dropped out of sight altogether. Then he ducked down behind
a tall mound of grass and went still. He would hide for a bit. Give
them a scare. When he came home he would have the story for his
parents of how his brothers had left him on the hill.
The
sun had set and it started to snow. One minute the skies were clear
but for a few flurries and the next minute the wind was ripping
through the air and the snow was coming down in a shocking state of
whir. It spun about The Drummer's eyes without remorse, practically
blinding him. He stopped abruptly and shook feathers out of his
vision. He had lost the road somewhere. Behind him there was clear
cut white and ahead of him it was the same, though with biting wind
roaring straight at you instead of against you. The Drummer could
feel his nerves beginning to prickle. Had he lost his way? What would
he do? He had no lint or lighter, and he couldn't have used either
even if he had, for the wind would have snatched it away for its own,
leaving him empty-handed.
He
couldn't turn around. He knew that would only confuse his direction
more. There was only one way to go. Straight ahead. He planted his
feet in front of him and started moving forward.
The
Little Shepherd was still lying in the grass when he heard the sound.
It was strange and sweet beautiful and without a doubt the most
terrifying thing he had ever heard. It was singing. Far over the hill
their were voices singing, seemingly hundreds of them. The Voices
swelled and sent a tremor through his body and a he had an
overwhelming feeling that was too much of everything to understand.
He lay there, as still as stone, until the feeling passed him by and
the world started moving again. Thing were quiet but he was so
unsettled that he decided now was the time to start heading home. He
had been gone long enough. With an acute sense of unease he started
off on his way.
That
was when it started snowing.
The
Drummer's hands were freezing in his pockets. He couldn't see more
than two feet in front of him. He wasn't sure what way he was
travelling any longer. He was afraid he had lost his sense of
direction entirely and could be heading just about anywhere. One
thing was for certain. He had to get out of this cold. He would die
if he didn't.
He
stumbled on blindly through the white blur. His eyes were fogging
over. He'd never felt so cold in all of his life. The flakes piled up
around his feet, threatening to bury his footsteps. They wanted to
swallow him up.
How
queer a thing love is, that even being so far from him she could
still feel his struggle. It would seem impossible. But such is the
bond of lovers, for in that moment the Lassie started awake in her
bed, heart hammering.
She flung open the cabin door and stepped into the snow. Again the
sound came, farther off but still there. Out she went. She must go to
him.
Her
Drummer was in danger.
He
was dying. And he was alone.
The
world is a different place at night and it is beyond horrifying in
the wilds of a hungry storm. The Lassie called her drummer's name but
her voice was picked up and flung away viciously and the wind cackled
wickedly at her. She shouted back at it, but what did her protests
mean to it? She cursed the wind for it's crulty and the snow for its
cold and she cursed herself for asking her Drummer out in weather
like this. Now he was in trouble, or maybe far worse.
She must find
him. She must.
The
Drummer had never felt so terribly cold. He nothing more than to lie
down and sleep. It took everything in him not to give into this
longing. If he slept he wouldn't survive the night. He must put one
foot in front of the other. Keep going. That was the way.
He
slammed suddenly against something straight in front of him and
staggered back. He steadied himself and walked forward slowly, his
hands stretched in front. The tips of his fingers scraped bare board.
He moved them along the wood and found a door fitting, and then
pushed it open. He slid in quickly and shut the door behind him. He
found himself in a small stable house. The animals stared at him with
disinterest and he waved a friendly hand.
“Hallo
friends. Do you mind if I bunk with you here? Nah, I hoped you
wouldn't.” He smiled and patted one of the horses kindly. He pulled
up a sack and stacked it against the hay. He curled up and tried to
make himself as comfortable as he could. He would likely be stuck
here for the night, so might as well make the best of it. He was
warming up now. He pulled his pack off his shoulder and took the
drum from it. He began to play.
Thrum,
thrum, thrum. Thrum-thre-thrum-thrum.
Softly
did the drum play. Loudly did the wind howl. Swiftly did the music
fly.
It
flew down and found a young Shepherd hobbled along in the snow. He
was sorely regretting his decision to stay behind his brothers. He
could no longer see his path and he had never felt such piercing ice
in his blood. He was having trouble ignoring the snow which was
falling about him. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear and the wind bit
through his skin without mercy. He pulled his vest close about him
and struggled on. His only hope was to walk out the storm. But his
eyes were heavy. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and let
the darkness take over. Tears pricked at his lids. If only he had
gone with his brothers. He wondered if anyone had noticed he was gone
yet. What could they do even if they had? They couldn't come and find
him. Not in this. He would die here, and it would be his own fault.
He folded his vest tighter about him and squeezed his eyes shut and
started a prayer but the words caught in his throat. His tears weld
up and slid down his cheeks. The wind moaned a lonely tune in the
silence of the night.
Then...
Thrum,
thrum, thrum. Thrum-thre-thrum-thrum.
His
eyes came open. The notes came again. They were soft and almost lost
in the wind but they were there. He found the strength to stand. He
followed the sound. He followed the sound of the drums.
There
were others trying to find their way in this weather. A women sitting
upon a donkey, and a man leading the beast and his wife. They were
going downhill and had been for several minutes. The were looking for
the stable which promised them shelter. They knew it had to be
close. The Innkeeper had showed them the right direction not long
before now. That was before the snow had started though and know it
was hard to see anything now. The Husband knew she could not have the
Child in this cold and storm.
The
wind howled but then another sound came. It was the sound of drums.
He raised his head to them. They were coming from not too far away.
Just a little to the South instead of the North. There was nothing
else to try. He followed the drums.
The
music didn't stop there though, oh no. it went on. On and on the
Drummer boy played and somehow the music reached a Lassie, lying
down, nearly frozen in the snow. She raised her head. Tears stained
her face and she hardly had strength to walk. But she heard Drums.
And if she heard drums, then Perhaps …. Just perhaps....She forced
herself to stand.
Thrum-thrum-thrum-thre-thrum!
She
could hear him! Her drummer boy! She could hear him playing! She
tried desperately to catch the notes but the wind kept catching them
up, He was alive though, somewhere. She could here him. Where was he?
“Drummer!
Drummer!” She screamed out his name. But no one answered her
call. There was nothing but drums, drums, drums. She could feel the
beat pulling through her. She only had to follow it. Follow the
drums. Follow the drums!
Still
in the night the Drummer Boy played. Swift went his fingers against
the smooth wood. Soft now, now building, now almost inaudible, now
growing into a crescendo. His drums were something out of a
fairytale. It called to all the travellers lost in the snow that
night. It called to the villagers, going home late from their work.
It called to the Shepherds sent by angels and to the one brother
lost alone in the cold. It reached the husband and wife struggling to
their stable and the Lassie, alone in the frosty winter night. They
all raised their heads. They all heard the sound. They all followed
the music.
Thrum-thrum-thrum-thre-thrum
Enchantingly
did the music float in the travellers hearts. It was leading them all
home.
The
drums vibrated with such ferocity in the Lassie's chest that she
thought she might die from the cause of it. Now she saw something
too. A stable. Lit up as if hung with stars. There was singing.
Angels were singing to the Drummer drums. The snow did not blow so
here, but fell soflty as if caught in it's own time, captivated by
the musics magic. Standing there in the stable were shepherds and
their sheep, a many villagers who'd lost their way in the storm. It
was practically full to bursting there were so many gathered here.
And
she saw him. He was sitting in the stable, playing his drum ever so
delicately. Sitting at his knee was a lovely lady, behind her a young
man and in her arms was a Child. As she watched He extended his arms
to the Drummer. The Drummer took him into his arms and the instrument
fell from his hands. Yet somehow the music carried on. It grew louder
and louder. The Drummer held the child, his eyes bright. He held the
Child so gently. So gently. The Lassie ran to him. He saw her and
smiled, opening up his arms so she could hold him in hers, crying her
thanks that she'd found him alive. The music played on and on and the
Drummer's music floated up to heaven. The whole world rung with the
Drummer music.
And
the Drummer cried.
Now my fingers are getting cold and I want to curl up in my PJ's and fluff TARDIS hat and sleep. I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and I hope you all have a very Merry New Year!! GOD BLESS!!!! PEACE OUT Y'ALL!!!!
*slides off car*
Bella
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