The Adventure of Christmas Past
I sit behind the keyboard waiting for inspiration for a blog post. Suddenly a figure appears before me. A bright lights shines from it's head, almost blinding me. As my eyes adjust to the light, I realise the figure keeps shifting form. One moment it's a young girl, then suddenly an old man, then a head without a body, constantly shifting and never settling as one thing.
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past" the figure announces and if I didn't know better I'd say it had delivered the line with a sense of pride.
"Long past?" I inquired.
"No. Your past"
"But I like Christmas, I don't need saving." I tell the spirit.
"True. But you do need content so let us travel back to your past".
The room fills with bright light and then fades again but I'm no longer in the same place. I'm now in a crowded dining room and a group of people are sat around the table eating Christmas dinner. I instantly recognise my parents and soon spot a pair of family friends, though it's odd seeing them together as they've long since been divorced in my timeline. Three children sit at the table too- the friend's son, a boy little more than a toddler, my brother and one around six or seven which I realise is myself. The young me munches away on his dinner and drips gravy all down his top- I realise in many ways, little has changed. The young me starts to swing on his heavy dining room chair and I realise which Christmas I'm seeing.
Suddenly, the young me loses control of the swinging chair and goes hurtling backwards, straight towards the patio door. Glass is no match for a small boy riding a chair at a high velocity and the chair and the younger me smash their way through. As on onlooker it seems terrifying and I'm stunned that the young me appears completely uninjured and has inexplicably come out of the accident unscathed. Everyone gathers round and I know that within minutes a piece of wood has been found to cover the hole.
"Come, there is much to see" says the spirit and once again the bright light intensifies and then fades. I'm now in the more familiar surroundings of the living room I grew up in though the furniture and the decor has changed several times since then. There's my younger brother, perhaps a year or two older than I'd last seen him and he's in tears. It only takes one look to see what the problem is- his little legs are red and swollen and I turn to see the worried looks on my parents faces at the symptoms which look worryingly like they might be meningitis.
I know that it turned out to be an allergy to penicillin which he'd recently been prescribed due to a stomach bug. The spirit is clearly letting time play on fast-forward as I see everyone rushed to the car to see the emergency doctor and then almost immediately reappear and get into the business of celebrating Christmas, now looking much more cheery. The hands on the clock face spin faster and faster as the family zoom around me. Eventually the clock stops at six PM and I'm again watching in normal time.
Suddenly the family cat comes bursting into the room looking excited and it becomes clear that she's brought in a Christmas present of her own, a mouse. Pleased with her catch, she deposits it on the floor. The mouse is no fool and immediately runs away from it's captor. It heads straight for the obvious place of safety, the Christmas tree. I watch as my father attempts to retrieve the mouse from the tangle of needles and baubles but it becomes clear that it's not going anywhere. In the end the tree is carried out into the garden and at some point presumably the mouse made his escape.
"Come" the spirit says again and for the third time I feel the strange magical sensation of the bright light and am once again in another time. It's the same living room but this time the decor has been updated and the leather sofa has seen better days. I'm right in the middle of the action as the room seems to be filled with tiny flying insects.
This was the year the usual Christmas tree supplier had run out of trees and we had to obtain one from a local garden centre. Clearly the tree had not been treated correctly and insects had laid eggs on it. After a couple of weeks of sitting in the nice warm house the young had emerged and it felt like something from a low-budget horror movie. The tree itself is swarming with horrible little black things and many have decided to expand their horizons and explore the house. My father is once again removing the tree from the building whilst the thirteen year old me is swatting at everything it can find.
The scene doesn't last long and once again the spirit does it's thing. I'm standing at the top of the stairs with a now more sizeable version of myself, about sixteen, sat on the top step. I hear the sound of a key turning in the lock as someone enters the house.
"Oh spirit, not this Christmas" I exclaim.
"These are the shadows of things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me!" the spirit replies.
I don't want to look but I can't help it. In enters my father with a pet carrier which is disturbingly empty. It quickly becomes clear that the family cat that I'd known since I was born had been put down. I'd known that this was the likely outcome but it didn't make the pain any less real. I see the tears fall down the cheeks of the figure in front of me and feel my own eyes beginning to moisten.
"No more, spirit, no more" I implore and without warning I find myself back in the present.
"My childhood Christmasses were always eventful," I tell the spirit.
There's a hint of a nod, though the body language of a formless spirit is not the easiest to read.
"I must leave you now," the spirit announces. "The next spirit will be along presently".
"Oh good" I say. "I hope he sings that great song from Muppet's Christmas Carol".
The spirit fades away and after a moment's pause, I turn to the screen and begin to type...
"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past" the figure announces and if I didn't know better I'd say it had delivered the line with a sense of pride.
"Long past?" I inquired.
"No. Your past"
"But I like Christmas, I don't need saving." I tell the spirit.
"True. But you do need content so let us travel back to your past".
The room fills with bright light and then fades again but I'm no longer in the same place. I'm now in a crowded dining room and a group of people are sat around the table eating Christmas dinner. I instantly recognise my parents and soon spot a pair of family friends, though it's odd seeing them together as they've long since been divorced in my timeline. Three children sit at the table too- the friend's son, a boy little more than a toddler, my brother and one around six or seven which I realise is myself. The young me munches away on his dinner and drips gravy all down his top- I realise in many ways, little has changed. The young me starts to swing on his heavy dining room chair and I realise which Christmas I'm seeing.
Suddenly, the young me loses control of the swinging chair and goes hurtling backwards, straight towards the patio door. Glass is no match for a small boy riding a chair at a high velocity and the chair and the younger me smash their way through. As on onlooker it seems terrifying and I'm stunned that the young me appears completely uninjured and has inexplicably come out of the accident unscathed. Everyone gathers round and I know that within minutes a piece of wood has been found to cover the hole.
"Come, there is much to see" says the spirit and once again the bright light intensifies and then fades. I'm now in the more familiar surroundings of the living room I grew up in though the furniture and the decor has changed several times since then. There's my younger brother, perhaps a year or two older than I'd last seen him and he's in tears. It only takes one look to see what the problem is- his little legs are red and swollen and I turn to see the worried looks on my parents faces at the symptoms which look worryingly like they might be meningitis.
I know that it turned out to be an allergy to penicillin which he'd recently been prescribed due to a stomach bug. The spirit is clearly letting time play on fast-forward as I see everyone rushed to the car to see the emergency doctor and then almost immediately reappear and get into the business of celebrating Christmas, now looking much more cheery. The hands on the clock face spin faster and faster as the family zoom around me. Eventually the clock stops at six PM and I'm again watching in normal time.
Suddenly the family cat comes bursting into the room looking excited and it becomes clear that she's brought in a Christmas present of her own, a mouse. Pleased with her catch, she deposits it on the floor. The mouse is no fool and immediately runs away from it's captor. It heads straight for the obvious place of safety, the Christmas tree. I watch as my father attempts to retrieve the mouse from the tangle of needles and baubles but it becomes clear that it's not going anywhere. In the end the tree is carried out into the garden and at some point presumably the mouse made his escape.
"Come" the spirit says again and for the third time I feel the strange magical sensation of the bright light and am once again in another time. It's the same living room but this time the decor has been updated and the leather sofa has seen better days. I'm right in the middle of the action as the room seems to be filled with tiny flying insects.
This was the year the usual Christmas tree supplier had run out of trees and we had to obtain one from a local garden centre. Clearly the tree had not been treated correctly and insects had laid eggs on it. After a couple of weeks of sitting in the nice warm house the young had emerged and it felt like something from a low-budget horror movie. The tree itself is swarming with horrible little black things and many have decided to expand their horizons and explore the house. My father is once again removing the tree from the building whilst the thirteen year old me is swatting at everything it can find.
The scene doesn't last long and once again the spirit does it's thing. I'm standing at the top of the stairs with a now more sizeable version of myself, about sixteen, sat on the top step. I hear the sound of a key turning in the lock as someone enters the house.
"Oh spirit, not this Christmas" I exclaim.
"These are the shadows of things that have been. That they are what they are, do not blame me!" the spirit replies.
I don't want to look but I can't help it. In enters my father with a pet carrier which is disturbingly empty. It quickly becomes clear that the family cat that I'd known since I was born had been put down. I'd known that this was the likely outcome but it didn't make the pain any less real. I see the tears fall down the cheeks of the figure in front of me and feel my own eyes beginning to moisten.
"No more, spirit, no more" I implore and without warning I find myself back in the present.
"My childhood Christmasses were always eventful," I tell the spirit.
There's a hint of a nod, though the body language of a formless spirit is not the easiest to read.
"I must leave you now," the spirit announces. "The next spirit will be along presently".
"Oh good" I say. "I hope he sings that great song from Muppet's Christmas Carol".
The spirit fades away and after a moment's pause, I turn to the screen and begin to type...
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