Christmas Bear Book Novels & Stories

The birds chirped away on the huge oak trees that provided cool shades to everyone, the pools were clean, big, and inviting. We made our way inside and Grandma Rose was seated on a queen-like chair, a glass of red wine swirling in her hand. Her makeup and dress made her look intimidating, the interior decoration of her sitting room was nothing like the taste of an elderly woman. “Aria," she called, rising from her seat with a bright smile. I hurriedly walked past Damon and into her open arms. “Good afternoon, grandma Rose." “You look so much beautiful just like last night," she commended.

Selecting a long unopened box from the bottom of the bookshelf with a fond smile, she carried it to the occasional table before the sofa. “This,” she said, reaching inside and drawing out the handsewn teddies she and Lily had played with as children, “is Clarence and Collette Bear.” Across from her, Sarah’s eyes brightened, and Peter slumped. “Bears? Those are stupid.” “Are they?” Leaning the bears against the box, Evelyn began to remove more. “Clarence and Collette are siblings, like you two. They spend a great deal of time on adventures.” Removing a stack of handmade clothes, she laid them out for the children to see. “See here?” She tapped a fireman’s yellow and gray coat, setting the pa

The book was about a bear and a rabbit who were trying to determine which of them could stay awake longer. He read it with the same attention he gave to surgical literature. I was at the drafting table with my back partly toward him and I kept my eyes on the page in front of me, the developmental series sketches, but I was not drawing. I was listening to Tristan Cross read a picture book about a bear and a rabbit in the specific tone he used for things that required doing correctly. After the first book he set it down and picked up the second. This one was about a small girl who was afraid of thunder and the grandmother who told her the thunder was just the sky moving furniture around.

Then he sat up. “I have a surprise for you,” he said, softly. I said up, looking at him. “Really? What?” I asked. He stood up, walked behind a bush, and brought a medium-sized teddy bear. The teddy was brown. He sat in front of me, giving me the bear. “Thank you,” I said, collecting it. The bear is cuddly. “Press the stomach,” he said. I smiled, pressing it, and my smile dropped immediately, water pulling up in my eyes as his voice flowed through.

It was a book they had read countless times, but each time, it held a new magic, a new wonder for Theo. “Once upon a time,” Hazel began, her voice soft and soothing, “there was a little bear named Barnaby who loved to go on adventures.” Theo’s eyes widened, his attention captivated by the story. He listened intently, his tiny fingers tracing the illustrations, his imagination soaring with each word Hazel spoke. The story of Barnaby the bear, his adventures in the forest, his encounters with talking squirrels and mischievous rabbits, filled the room with a sense of magic and wonder. Theo giggled at Barnaby’s antics, his heart filled with joy.

But tonight, exhaustion mixed with a restless heat low in her belly, making her shift uncomfortably. "Dory, still at it? The reindeer need their rest, and so do you." Santa's voice boomed from the doorway, warm and gravelly, like a hearth fire. At 50-something in appearance but timeless in spirit, Nicholas Claus filled the frame, broad-shouldered, belly rounded from centuries of cookies, his white beard trimmed neat, eyes twinkling with that knowing glint. He wasn't the jolly myth; he was real, weary from the endless rush, shoulders carrying the weight of a world's wishes.

Serendipity nodded, tearing her eyes away from the structure at last and smiling into those familiar green ones. As Corey led her inside, they were instantly greeted by dozens of working elves, each of whom called out, “Merry Christmas!” which Serendipity would have found rather odd considering Christmas was over months ago were she not standing in Santa’s Workshop at the North Pole. Instead, she answered with a jolly, “Merry Christmas!” in return. She noticed, and found it rather odd, that though Corey always acknowledged the speaker, he only chose to say, “Hello,” or “Good evening,” in response, never “Merry Christmas.”

~6 weeks later~ Frankie's POV: Today we finally find out the gender of our baby. Bear is gently rubbing my legs before it's time to go to my appointment. My bump is more noticeable now that I'm 4 months pregnant. I can't believe we're coming up on Christmas in a few weeks. Halloween was kind of boring for me cause it's not my thing. Even when I was a kid I wasn't interested in Halloween. All of the younger kids were losing their damn minds over this shit while I watched Stranger Things with Bear. When Thanksgiving came around I was excited for a good home cooked meal with this crazy family of mine. It's usually at the Briggs home since it's the largest out of everyone's home, well except the

I had prepared myself for drama- a lot of it even- but nothing like that happens Surprised and shocked, I walk to my bed to see a very large teddy bear lying on it with a light blue sheet of paper beside it. The sight of the teddy bear on my bed warms my heart up and I study it for a bit. It is a pure white teddy with red decorations in some places. It is holding a big heart between his two little paws which says, "I love to cuddle!"