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The Christmas Spirit - A Flash Fiction Story

Tim is a Christian artist, storyteller and poet. He also has a strong faith and enjoys writing articles with a strong moral value.


Twas the night before Christmas”

and all through the mall people were dashing trying to buy it all…”

“Hey grandpa, that's not how the story goes!”

He looked down at the little girl in his lap. “I know Violet but I thought I would tell you a different story about The Christmas Spirit.”

“The Christmas Spirit?”

“Yes, the Christmas Spirit.”


“Well Violet. The Christmas Spirit comes around this time of year visiting each and every one….”

“Just like Santa Claus!”

“Yes, but the Christmas Spirit doesn’t bring you gifts. The Christmas Sprit gives you a certain joy in your heart. Let me tell you the rest of the story and you’ll understand.”

“Okay grandpa…”

“As I was saying. The stores were all filled with sales out the wazoo the people didn’t know which gifts to choose. Do I buy a sweater for my best man or a pair of socks for weird Uncle Stan? The people were all frazzled, fretting running to and fro when all of a sudden there arose a noise they didn’t know. They stopped and looked to see what was the matter then out of the crowd stepped a man dressed like the Mad Hatter. “

“Umm grandpa isn’t the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland?”

“Yes dear but I just said he looked like the Mad Hatter. Now May I continue?”


“Thank You. Okay, where was I? Oh yeah. The people were amazed. They stopped and stared. Who was this man? Why was he there? He looked around and called them all by name, hey Lucy, hey Charlie, hey Brenda, hey Ben. He called them all once, then again…”


“Yes dear…”

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“Why are you telling your story as a rhyme?”

“Well I guess I thought it would be better as a rhyme. You know, like for Christmas. Why, you don’t like my rhyming?”

“Not really…I think it takes away from the story.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” Grandpa laughed. “Here we go, no rhyming. Ok?”

“Yes…” She smiled.

The Christmas Spirit stood up straight and tall. In a big booming voice he called. “I am the Christmas Spirit. You know the one from the Dickens tale. I’ve come here to talk to you about how you failed. I usually do his one at a time but I’ve decided doing it this way would be just fine. Now what I have to say will right now be unveiled. When it comes to the true meaning of Christmas you’ve all failed. And might I say miserably.”


“Yes Violet.”

“You’re rhyming again.”

“Oh sorry, I’ll try to stop but I can’t promise…now let me continue.”

He we go. A voice from the back of the crowd called out. A woman with a voice so shrill and stout. “How do we know you’re who you say you are and not just some strange person?”

“Madam, Lisa right?”

She shook her head up and down.

“Can you come forward a minute?” She nervously made her way to the front of the crowd.

“So you don’t think I’m real? in you mind there is some doubt. We’ll take my hand I’ll give you a sight. Then you’ll know my words are true and right.”

They disappeared and reappeared. The woman now wore a grin. She gave a two thumbs up to the crowd.

“Now we’ve cleared up the issue of me being real. I have a few things I’d like to say.” He paced back and forth with his hands clenched behind his back. ”First and foremost,” he said. “stop ruining Christmas! You rush around to and fro buying gifts which will for the most part be forgotten or under appreciated. Think about it.”

“Grandpa, where is this story going?”

“Let me finish, dear.”

“Ok, but can you hurry? My show comes on soon.”

“Sure. The Christmas Spirit continued, “ instead of buying gifts which wear, fade and perish due to neglect, help those around you. You Fran, help your Aunt with her heating oil bill. How about you Ted doesn’t your sister need a babysitter? She’s a single mom with very little time to herself.” He looked at a man in the crowd. “Doug, Doug, Doug. Instead of lame gifts, give your wife some more one on one time. She’ll love all the more.

The rest of you take time to think more about what your loved ones really want from you.” He turned to go but turned back to the crowd. “Unless you want me to visit each one of you personally. So Merry Christmas to all and all, hopefully a Silent Night.” He walked away and vanished. The people were left mingling and talking about whether it was a dream or just a case of what may or what seemed.

“Grandpa, I don’t get the whole point of your story.”

“Well, if you want a moral to this story it would be something like this. Getting is much more wonderful when the person giving truly takes the time to give what the other person really needs to get. In other words you don’t need to spend money to give the most important Christmas gifts.”

“Oh okay. I guess I get it. So my gift to you this year is going to be more time with you.”

“I’d like that.”

© 2022 Timothy Whitt

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