Writing Prompt About Christmas Novels & Stories

Lowering myself to her level, I held her shoulders gently and brushed a strand of hair from her face. “No,” I said softly. “No, honey. You just had a nightmare. That’s all.” She didn’t look convinced. “Mummy has no reason to hurt Daddy,” I added quickly. “I’ll be back soon. And guess what? We’re spending Christmas here with Grandma and Uncle Elliot.” Her face lit up instantly. “Yeah.” “I’m just going to get a few things for Christmas,” I said. “I’ll be back.” I turned away before she could ask anything else.

They are men. Driving through town made me smile. Sure, the Christmas decorations have been the same for generations, but I think that’s what made me smile. This welcoming and warm feeling was in my heart as I looked at all the familiar decorations that filled my mountain home with holiday cheer. Packmates were busy with their days, working and shopping. I saw children looking into shop windows, eyeing toys they hoped to get for Christmas and all the holiday goodies in the bakery’s window. It feels like forever ago that I was one of those kids.

I wanted to ask her what was going through her mind, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for the answer. Instead, I tried to fill the silence. "So, what's your favorite thing about Christmas?" I asked. She glanced at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Probably the decorations. I love seeing how different everyone’s houses look, all lit up. It’s like the whole town transforms." "I can see that," I said, nodding. "It’s hard not to get into the spirit when everything’s so... festive." "Yeah," she agreed. "And then there's the food. My mom always makes her special Christmas cookies, the ones with the sprinkles on top. I always look forward to those."

“It’s Christmas. You have to put up a tree.” I never got invested in the holidays. My family got together for Christmas dinner and exchanged a few gifts, but we didn’t make a big fuss about it. Christmas eve was the best night to pick up tail. Any woman in a bar on Christmas eve was depressed, and she fucked like being good in bed would fix all her problems. “Why?” She threw her arms down. “Because it’s Christmas. That’s what you’re supposed to do. I always have a tree up at my place even though there are very few presents under it. It’s the spirit of the season.”

"Well, get ready for a crash course then." "Christmas is a special time of the year," she explained, her voice filled with warmth. "It's a time when people come together to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. It's a time of love, joy, and giving. We exchange gifts, spend time with loved ones, and spread kindness to others."

"What in the world started all of that?" "I don't know. I just felt overwhelmed talking about what your dad is going through. I just need you to know how much you mean to me." He brushed her hair back and gazed down at her. "My mother used to always make us write down our Christmas wish for the year. It was above our Santa letter where we listed out our gifts. I didn't have many Christmas wishes, honestly because it seemed silly. I didn't believe in them, but this year, my wish would be for you."

It's a special moment, and they all feel a sense of connection and belonging. It's December, and Samantha and Andrew are getting ready for the holidays. They are hosting a Christmas party at their home, and they are excited to see all of their family and friends. They decorate the house with lights and ornaments, and they bake cookies and make hot chocolate. On Christmas Eve, they sit around the fireplace and read stories to their grandchildren. They feel a deep sense of joy and gratitude, knowing that they have everything they could ever want.

Ella: As the clock struck 12 on Christmas Eve, I made a wish asking God to send me my saviour and bless my parent’s souls. After attending the midnight mass, we come out of the church to be welcomed by tiny little flakes of snow colouring the whole landscape of this city. There was something so magical about this season, it brought out the best in me! We came home to a brightly decorated house which took me almost a month of planning and execution. The string lights and the star of Bethlehem sparkled amongst tiny balls of cotton resembling snow at the bottom of the tree.

It's Christmas day and my little family has a bright future. The End.

If I stay another hour with this utterly perfect, steamy, magnetic storm of a man, something might just melt and I can’t guarantee it won’t be my panties. I push my glasses up my nose. “Really.” He taps his fingers on the table. “Are you saying you’ve never bought Christmas presents for anyone?” “I have,” I admit. “For people I care about, who I’m grateful to have in my life. That’s what Christmas is about – celebrating, treasuring the people you love, making them happy. It’s not the presents. It’s the smile you put on their faces when you give them presents, when they tear off that shiny wrapping paper and see something they want. You see, if you give a present to someone close to you, you