Holiday
Greetings Five days before Christmas By Elizabeth Vrudny Menahga Five days before Christmas, in Minnesota, and school was out for vacation. The dreaded chemistry exam was done. I had squeaked out a “B” in trigonometry, and my English essay was finished. It was 1974, and I was walking the six blocks to our local florist. I was 16, and headed to my after-school job to make deliveries. Brr! I pulled my jacket hood up over my hat. It was a chilly 10-below zero. Hoping for a quick work day, I was excited about getting out early tonight. There was a hockey game at 7 p.m., and I was in the pep band. Afterwards, I had permission to stay out until 11 p.m. to go to the pizza place with friends. As I walked into the floral shop, I was not disappointed. Two hospital deliveries and three local bouquets were waiting on the counter for delivery. After that, I would be home free for two weeks. No school, no work, freedom. Warming up my
truck, I gave all the bouquets extra wrappings. By 4:30 p.m., I rounded the corner and pulled up to my last delivery. An older home, but lights were on so I knew someone would be home. I left the flowers in the truck to make a quick path to the door and get the owner ready. I didn’t want any frozen flowers on my last stop. Ring, ring, ring, waiting, waiting, ring, ring, ring again, more waiting. Finally, I could see an older lady walking with a cane coming to the door. “Greetings, I’m from Northwoods Floral, and I have flowers for Mrs. Anderson for her birthday,” I said. She lit up and smiled as she answered, “That’s me!” Hurriedly, I told her, “I’ll be right back with your bouquet. If you would stay by the door.” When I came back, I handed her the flowers and heard the fateful words: “Please come in and unwrap them for me.” Rats, this might be longer than I thought, ran through my head. I ripped off the coverings, placed the flowers on the table, and said,
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Wednesday, Dec. 24, 2022 Editor’s note: Storytelling by Enterprise readers is one of our favorite holiday traditions. So grab a cup of hot cocoa and snuggle under a warm blanket to enjoy poems, memoirs and short fiction by your friends and neighbors. There are tales to make you feel grateful, to remember and to be hopeful. Thank you to our contributors!
One Starry Night
By Gail Wenner Park Rapids On some unnamed Judean hill outside the little town, They shivered as the night air froze, their staves and rods laid down. They’d rest their legs and close their eyes, unsheltered from the cold, Not knowing of the wonder that this common night would hold. Night skies were like a canopy, a backdrop for the glow, So brilliant were the stars that night, but how were they to know? These were but rugged shepherds, a group that was despised, Unschooled, unkempt, outcast by those who fancied themselves wise. Yet God would herald His good news to just such men as they; He’d break the wall of prejudice, the taboos of the day. Attempting sleep or dozing, in ragged tunics bound, The chosen ones were startled by an other-wordly sound. The glory of the Lord shone round most unmistakably, No earthly voice could say, “Fear Not” with such authority. But fear they did, each humble shepherd falling on his face, Awed by the clear announcement of so wonderful a grace. “For unto you is born this day, A Savior, Christ the Lord.” They lifted heads, amazed at hearing first this glorious Word. The angels spoke of “Glory,” “Peace on earth,” “Good will to men.” Still awestruck were the shepherds by the hearld’s message plain. “Let’s go,” “Make haste,” and “even unto Bethlehem below us, The Lord has made this known tonight and surely He will show us.” Confused, but with new boldness now, and by the Spirit led, They left their flocks and found the Babe where animals were fed. Again their faces touched the ground, but this time not from fear, With hearts so moved to worship and proclaim, “Our King is here.” To some, this story’s history – a fable sweet and dear, But when you know the Savior, it’s more powerful each year. God in a stall – the Sovereign in the arms of but a maid. What saw we now as sinners, for the plan of God is laid.
The elf with more personality than a shelf By Serenity Miller Sophomore, Nevis High School The moment the packaging was opened, the secret elf knew of their mission, though it was not one they were proud to do. This was the worst part of being an elf. Everything was fine up until Mr. Clause decided that there wasn’t
enough Christmas Spirit around the world. Hence his idea to send off elves to watch over the humans of this world. And here it was, ready to bring joy to them. Hurray. The noises and smells were overwhelming as they shoved their way to be filtered into the elf’s button eyes and cotton head. This place was a cacophony of terribleness. Truly these folk needed a lesson in knowing when to stop.
ELF: Page B2 A special supplement by the
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