Norman Rockwell's Christmas Book Novels & Stories

I could see people decorating their houses with Christmas trees and lights already. It dawned on me that Christmas was fast approaching, hardly two weeks from now. And it was surprising to note that a house as big as the Dalton mansion had no setup yet for the festive season. "Isn't the house going to start decorating soon for Christmas?" I asked Arthur, who had hardly said a word throughout the journey. I didn't mean to, but my question seemed to have triggered something and left him angry. His brows frowned and his jaw clenched immediately, making me wonder as to what I could’ve said wrong. "I hate Christmas." He said, unapologetically.

Roth has heard a lot of jokes like this from him over the years, enough to be entertained instead of being insulted. Do you want me to remind you of how finding a mate works, V? Or should I just give you a mental recording with the right amount of sarcasm? "Well, bah humbug to you too, Roth. I just can't believe this is the 32nd Christmas that we won't be having anyone celebrating the holidays. I was hoping you've already made up your mind by now." When I find her scent, you will be the first to know. Meanwhile, it's bah humbug to you too, Vince. So, are you going to continue working as you usually do, or go home and rest, which I know you dislike at this time of year?

The wind howled outside the old Victorian house, rattling the windows as snow piled high against the panes. It was Christmas Eve in Willow Creek, and Emma Harper had returned from the city for the holidays, hoping the familiar scents of pine and cinnamon would mend the ache of another year alone. At twenty-nine, she was a freelance illustrator, her life a whirlwind of deadlines and empty takeout boxes. But tonight, with the power flickering out from the storm, the house felt alive in a way it hadn't since she was a kid.

In the end, I couldn't bear to let Noelle spend the last Christmas Eve of her life filled with regret. I searched through every office on the entire floor and finally found a female doctor about the same height as Ivana. I begged her to pretend to be Ivana. An hour later, the doctor appeared beside Noelle's bed, wearing a Santarina costume borrowed from somewhere on the street. She was holding Noelle's favorite doll. Noelle cried tears of happiness. "I knew Mommy wouldn't abandon me." I covered my mouth and pulled Noelle tightly into my arms. A nurse took a picture of our final moment together. In the end, Noelle died on that snowy Christmas Eve.

His little sister Carol was looking forward to seeing Santa Clause. Eddie went into the woods and cut a cedar tree for a Christmas Tree. Coral was excited Santa was coming soon. Eddie helped Coral decorate the tree. Paper was cut and Mama made glue out of flour and water. The paper was glued together to make interlocking rings. The strand of rings was placed around the Christmas Tree like garland. Eddie helped her cut paper and make snowflakes for the ornaments. It was a simple tree with no lights. In the eyes of Carol, it was the perfect Christmas Tree. Eddie went hunting on the Christmas Eve and killed a deer for Christmas Dinner. Carol cried because he teased her and said it was Rudolph t

This is a Christmas special chapter. It doesn't go in line with the original book. Just like a stand-alone extra chapter. I hope you all enjoy though. “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.” ~Norman Vincent Peal . "I know you would rather be on your own, but are you ever going to let us change that?" Ada asked, as she steps into Cainan's room and finds him in the bed, covered up with the duvet.

There was something in the air that Melody couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t just the cold or the soft fog that clung to the hills in the mornings. It was the way people smiled more easily. The way neighbors lingered longer in front of their gates. The way shop windows were dressed with ribbons and cheap blinking lights, and somehow it all still looked beautiful. Christmas in Snowbrook had always been like this, very festive. She stood in her childhood bedroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror while adjusting the sleeve of her sweater. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands already escaping and framing her face. She looked calm and happier than she had felt in a l

They had discussed it directly, in the manner of the second year's discussions: carefully, with the specific quality of two people who were not yet entirely comfortable but were committed to finding the accurate arrangement. Don had said: I am happy to do whatever Christmas you need. Ernest had said: I need very little. Don had said: then we do very little, and we do it well. The doing-very-little-and-doing-it-well had become the Christmas method across the seven years. It had the following elements: a good dinner on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day, because Christmas Day was often better as the quiet day after the occasion rather than the occasion itself; a walk on Christmas morning,

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.

Maybe it was time to let them see light again. The next day, I bought a few gifts — nothing fancy, just things that made sense. A cashmere scarf that reminded me of how William always forgets to wear one. A book I thought he'd like. A puzzle for Abby and him to do together. And something small for myself too: a new red sweater, not too bold, but festive. I wanted to feel new this year. On Christmas Eve, the snow finally started falling — soft and slow, just enough to turn the streets white without freezing them over. Abby practically danced out the door with her backpack slung over one shoulder and a box of cookies balanced in her arms.