Giftmas

Giftmas 2021

I love giving gifts, and one of my favorite parts of Christmas is seeing the faces of my family when they open the gifts I’ve spent hours making.

I am very blessed that I have a loving family who make sure I have plenty to eat and a roof over my head. Because of my disabilities, my situation would be very different if I didn’t have their help.

Unfortunately, a lot of people struggle to make ends meet and Christmas can be a particularly difficult time to put food on the table. With this in mind, the wonderful Rhonda Parrish raises money every December for her local Edmonton food bank. The goal this year is $1,200 CAD, which will provide 3,600 meals!

Please give as generously as you can and help us exceed the goal for Giftmas 2021! Click on the button below to donate now.


Click here to read Giftmas Story Train Part 2 by Jennifer Lee Rossman.

Giftmas Story Train Part 3

“Come on, we need to leave here before the Yule cats arrive.” Great Aunt Agnes waved her gloved hand and strode off the bridge towards the trees.

Cherie floundered after her, sinking into drifts and slipping on the icy bridge when she crossed it. Agnes seemed to be always one lamppost ahead no matter how hard she tried to close the distance.

Agnes stopped in the ambit of the last lamppost and looked back at Cherie. She crossed her arms and shook her head, tsking softly under her breath. Hearing the sound brought Cherie back to her first day with Agnes. Grubby and clothed in ill fitting rags, she’d looked at the woman with hostility and suspicion as she’d followed her into a kitchen filled with the scent of cinnamon and freshly baked sugar cookies. Another adult to disappoint her.

Oh, how she’d been wrong.

“This won’t do at all. Why, the snowmen are almost upon us,” Agnes said.

Cherie looked back. The snowmen did seem to be closer. She couldn’t remember there being any on the forest side of the bridge, and now they clustered in the shadows just outside the lamplight. One was almost close enough for Cherie to touch, and she felt tempted to reach out and squeeze it’s bright orange nose. It looked so friendly, with such a big smile. Were those teeth lurking inside its mouth?

Great Aunt Agnes whistled shrilling, breaking Cherie’s focus on the snowman. It didn’t look so welcoming anymore. She hurried towards Agnes.

“Septimus, we need you.”

The snow appeared to rise up behind Agnes and rush towards her in a wave. Terrified of losing her again, Cherie screamed and pushed her body into a sloppy, arm pinwheeling run, that left her tomato cheeked and wheezing. Fortunately, the avalanche petered out at the base of the lamppost behind her relative, resolving into the form of a fluffy arctic fox the shiny black eyes and nose.

“What’s up, A?”

“Ah, Septimus, thank you for coming. My Great Niece and I need your assistance in vacating this area post-haste. Would you mind obliging?”

The fox turned to look Cherie up and down. “Doesn’t look so great to me.”

Agnes waved her hand. “It’s an expression.”

Septimus shrugged. “Well, I’ll do it for you, A, but after this we’re even.”

Cherie watched in dismay as the fox grew bigger, seeming to absorb snow until it was the size of a large cart horse. She didn’t know if she was more surprised that the animal could talk or manipulate it’s size and shape.

Agnes grabbed a handful of Septimus’s ruff and jumped nimbly onto his back. She held out her hand to Cherie.

“Come on, up you get.”

She hung back. Riding horses was unpleasant enough, but a giant fox made of snow seemed unsafe and extremely cold to the nethers. Agnes’s encouraging smile faltered for a second, and Septimus paced under her. Cherie glanced back. The snowmen had crossed the distance between the penultimate lamppost and the last, and larger shadows prowled the darkness near the bridge. She turned back to Agnes and took her hand, climbing onto the fox’s back with much grunting, many words of encouragement from her Great Aunt, and some cursing from Septimus.

“Time to fly,” Agnes said.

Cherie wrapped her arms around her Great Aunt’s waist and closed her eyes, afraid that Septimus would sprout wings and take to the sky. Instead, he bounded into the darkness between the trees.

“You’re dead, you know.”

“Am I?” Agnes chuckled.

Click here to discover what happens next in Giftmas Story Train Part 4 by Beth Cato.


Don’t forget! Click on the button below to donate, and tell your friends!

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