Write a short story related to Christmas
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Master Peter, and the two ubiquitous young Cratchits went to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high procession.
Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of course, and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!
There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by the apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone, too nervous to bear witnesses, to take the pudding up and bring it in.
Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it should break in turning out. Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose, a supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of horrors were supposed.
Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered, -flushed, but smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.
Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been, flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glasses. Two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.
These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed:
"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!"
Which all the family re-echoed.
"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.
A Christmas Carol Short Story
A Short Story
by
Charles Dickens
Such a bustle ensued that you might have thought a goose the rarest of all birds; a feathered phenomenon, to which a black swan was a matter of course, and in truth it was something very like it in that house. Mrs. Cratchit made the gravy (ready beforehand in a little saucepan) hissing hot; Master Peter mashed the potatoes with incredible vigour; Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple-sauce; Martha dusted the hot plates; Bob took Tiny Tim beside him in a tiny corner at the table; the two young Cratchits set chairs for everybody, not forgetting themselves, and mounting guard upon their posts, crammed spoons into their mouths, lest they should shriek for goose before their turn came to be helped. At last the dishes were set on, and grace was said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, looking slowly all along the carving-knife, prepared to plunge it in the breast; but when she did, and when the long expected gush of stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried Hurrah!
There never was such a goose. Bob said he didn't believe there ever was such a goose cooked. Its tenderness and flavour, size and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out by the apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (surveying one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they hadn't ate it all at last! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits in particular, were steeped in sage and onion to the eyebrows! But now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the room alone, too nervous to bear witnesses, to take the pudding up and bring it in.
Suppose it should not be done enough! Suppose it should break in turning out. Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of the back-yard and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose, a supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid! All sorts of horrors were supposed.
Hallo! A great deal of steam! The pudding was out of the copper. A smell like a washing-day! That was the cloth. A smell like an eating-house and a pastrycook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding! In half a minute Mrs. Cratchit entered, -flushed, but smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannon-ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of half-a-quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly stuck into the top.
Oh, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her mind, she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. It would have been, flat heresy to do so. Any Cratchit would have blushed to hint at such a thing.
At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound in the jug being tasted, and considered perfect, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovel-full of chestnuts on the fire. Then all the Cratchit family drew round the hearth, in what Bob Cratchit called a circle, meaning half a one; and at Bob Cratchit's elbow stood the family display of glasses. Two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.
These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Bob served it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire sputtered and cracked noisily. Then Bob proposed:
"A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us!"
Which all the family re-echoed.
"God bless us every one!" said Tiny Tim, the last of all.
A Christmas Carol Short Story
A Short Story
by
Charles Dickens
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ANSWER
SHORT STORY RELATED TO CHIRSTMAS
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Sara. Every Christmas she had a special dreams but this one was the best! She dreamt that she could write to Santa Clause! So, every Christmas she used to write to Santa to help the poor instead of her gifts. Like that she helped in cultivating the town slowly to cultivate the country and then the world itself! How she wished that the dream could come true. She tried to write a letter and posted it in the post box. But somehow she doubted it is true because she knew there was no address she had just written “to dear Santa”. The next day, she received a letter from Santa Clause himself! She first thought it was some kind of joke that has been played by some prankster but when she opened it she was surprised. It said:-
Dear Sara,
We are very much indeed pleased by your letter. So we will grant you a boon that every year you can write a letter regarding your wishes. We won’t object if it is for your benefit or the others.
Yours,
SANTA
She could not believe her eyes. She read the letter over and over again and then she was convinced that it was not a prank. Every year on Christmas she made thousands of people happy with the help of her boon.
One week before Christmas she broke her arm. The doctor said that it was critical and that she could not use her fractured hand for any work! This was indeed a bad news. She would miss her letter this year!
On the day of Christmas she cried in her room, she thought she could make others happier this Christmas. There was another choice though but she did not want to use it. The option was that she could make others write the letter only if the letter was a wish for Sara herself only. But if it was the sake of others then Sara could not make others write it for her.
Suddenly a fairy appeared in front of her and said “dear Sara you are so kind in this vicious world. You don’t want to use the boon for yourself. You would rather use the boon for others than yourself. So we have decided to give you a lifetime boon which means you can make a wish a last wish which will last your entire lifetime and when you pass away then the boon will go away too. Make the wish my girl”
“my wish is that I want each and every person on earth to have a very good Christmas every year”
“you are very kind my girl. You are ready to help this vicious world. But if it is what you want then let it be granted. Bye Sara, I hope you prosper in life.”
With this she disappeared in a flash. Sara left a sigh of relief. She lived happily ever after with a smile always present in her life.
NEVER BE SELFISH OR YOU WILL NOT PROSPER
__END__
I HOPE THIS INFO HELPS U ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
SHORT STORY RELATED TO CHIRSTMAS
Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Sara. Every Christmas she had a special dreams but this one was the best! She dreamt that she could write to Santa Clause! So, every Christmas she used to write to Santa to help the poor instead of her gifts. Like that she helped in cultivating the town slowly to cultivate the country and then the world itself! How she wished that the dream could come true. She tried to write a letter and posted it in the post box. But somehow she doubted it is true because she knew there was no address she had just written “to dear Santa”. The next day, she received a letter from Santa Clause himself! She first thought it was some kind of joke that has been played by some prankster but when she opened it she was surprised. It said:-
Dear Sara,
We are very much indeed pleased by your letter. So we will grant you a boon that every year you can write a letter regarding your wishes. We won’t object if it is for your benefit or the others.
Yours,
SANTA
She could not believe her eyes. She read the letter over and over again and then she was convinced that it was not a prank. Every year on Christmas she made thousands of people happy with the help of her boon.
One week before Christmas she broke her arm. The doctor said that it was critical and that she could not use her fractured hand for any work! This was indeed a bad news. She would miss her letter this year!
On the day of Christmas she cried in her room, she thought she could make others happier this Christmas. There was another choice though but she did not want to use it. The option was that she could make others write the letter only if the letter was a wish for Sara herself only. But if it was the sake of others then Sara could not make others write it for her.
Suddenly a fairy appeared in front of her and said “dear Sara you are so kind in this vicious world. You don’t want to use the boon for yourself. You would rather use the boon for others than yourself. So we have decided to give you a lifetime boon which means you can make a wish a last wish which will last your entire lifetime and when you pass away then the boon will go away too. Make the wish my girl”
“my wish is that I want each and every person on earth to have a very good Christmas every year”
“you are very kind my girl. You are ready to help this vicious world. But if it is what you want then let it be granted. Bye Sara, I hope you prosper in life.”
With this she disappeared in a flash. Sara left a sigh of relief. She lived happily ever after with a smile always present in her life.
NEVER BE SELFISH OR YOU WILL NOT PROSPER
__END__
I HOPE THIS INFO HELPS U ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️
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