Christian Christmas Poems Novels & Stories

Humming her response and nodding up and down, she responds, “How old are you?” “I turned twenty-one just before last Christmas.” I smile, but she just tilts her head. “Oh, no Christmas here?” “Sorry love, what’s Christmas?” “It’s a holiday celebrated a little differently around the world, people give out presents and families gather to spend time together, people decorate their houses with lights and have a big dinner, it’s very nice.”

Arthur and I join the others in the living room, where a beautiful Christmas tree stands, twinkling with lights and ornaments. We gather around, everyone smiling and chatting, waiting for the clock to strike twelve. There’s a sense of anticipation, and I can feel Arthur’s hand tighten around mine. Finally, the clock strikes midnight, and a cheer goes up. “Merry Christmas!” everyone calls out, exchanging hugs and kisses. Gifts are passed around, and the room fills with laughter and joy. After the gifts are exchanged, we all raise our glasses for a toast. Arthur’s father, a kind man with a twinkle in his eye, leads the toast.

It was Christmas day already. The Rowland family mansion was filled with warmth and quiet joy. Just like every year, grandfather Gregory had organized a small celebration with only family and a few close friends. The gathering was simple but carried a strong sense of love and togetherness. The backyard of the mansion had been decorated beautifully. Strings of lights glowed warmly, casting a soft shine across the garden. The air carried the smell of roasted food, hot drinks, and freshly baked bread. The sound of cheerful conversations and laughter mixed with the cold evening breeze.

Before I could figure out what was going on, a tall and slender woman approached Dylan and me. She locked arms with Dylan and shot me an irritated look, asking, "Who's this?" Dylan answered before I could even say a word, speaking in a tone that made it seem like we had coincidentally run into each other. "She's Blake's girlfriend. She came to look for him." The woman immediately dropped her guard and curiously gave me a once-over. She smiled sweetly and introduced herself as Trixie Ashford. She was Dylan's girlfriend, and she had returned to the country specifically to celebrate Christmas with him.

"Never say never. Who knows…" Gosh, she was truly hopeless! Not wanting to listen to her nonsense anymore, I ended the call. Later events proved I shouldn't have done that. At least then I could have prepared myself for what was to come. … After the Christmas break, Louis and I both returned to work. The first morning rush after the holidays always resulted in unusually congested traffic. To make matters worse, I seemed to get caught at every red light possible. The trip that usually took no more than half an hour ended up taking me almost 50 minutes.

~HOLLY~ A soft chill dance through the air as Ella and I stroll down the street. It's the season of Christmas and so, the street is filled with Christmas decorations. Jingle bells chime from every corner—shop doors jingles open, children shake them playfully, and a distant choir let theirs ring like tiny stars. Christmas trees line the streets and windows, their twinkling lights blinking in warm, colorful rhythms. Snowflakes drift lazily from the sky, settling on rooftops and garlands, wrapping everything in a gentle, magical hush.

The comments section buzzes with blessings, praise, and envious messages. I stare at the screen for a long time without moving. This is not the first time they break their promise to me because of Giada. But this time, I do not argue or make a scene. I simply type and send one line calmly in the comments, "I wish your family of four a Merry Christmas." I finally let go of my obsession and stop waiting for people who will never come to me. But when I quietly step away, the ones who cannot let go turn out to be them.

I learned to be thankful and quiet. That acceptance made me hate Christmas. Love songs made my skin crawl. The lights under our tree looked like glass eyes. The ribbons on the presents were traps. Every year, the house tuned itself to cheer and I pretended to enjoy it. The twenty-fifth became the night when a new kind of cold touched my bones. It was the day the truth had crawled out at me like an animal. It was the day I had learned how much of my life had been decided by other hands.

The Courtesan's story will continue after school break, so expect book 2 soon... For now enjoy this bonus story.... ******* Prologue. Sleigh bells ring and the all too familiar sounds of classic Christmas music pour in through my earbuds as I walked down the snow-crusted sidewalk. Closing my eyes, I hummed along to the tune of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing With lyrics written by Charles Wesley,.” Sad to say, this is probably as Christmassy as I'm going to get.

“What are you going to do anyway? Did Hunter mess up again.” "Anyway, just do what I say. I have to go." Snow fell from the sky among the sparkling lights of different colors and the eruption of various kinds of fireworks. It's Christmas. Everyone is happy celebrating Christmas and is waiting for morning to come to open the gifts that have been placed under the Christmas tree.