Tag Archives: christmas

A Christmas Short Story

“Hot Chocolate and Marshmallows”

Emily loved this store, especially at Christmas. The Book and Gift store was a mishmash of books (new and used), toys, a Hallmark store, and even a growing used music section. The store seemed more like an antique mall instead of a regular shop. Book and Gift sat in an old J.C. Penny’s building downtown. But all the owners did was take down all the walls. There were columns everywhere and the carpet pathways were blocked with shelving or boxes of books. Each section of merchandise had its core, but bled over at the edges. The checkout was the old customer service desk in the back. There were old park benches throughout the store for people to sit.

It was a magical place on its own, but during the holidays it was a wonderland. The ceiling was lit by strings and strings of lights that wrapped around the columns. Random holiday characters could be found next to the benches or sitting on a shelf. Doug, the owner, always dressed in some 70’s band t-shirt, provided a free hot chocolate station, with little marshmallows, for the last few days before Christmas. Emily held a cup of hot chocolate, with a good helping of marshmallows, as she walked the store looking for a few last minute gifts.

As she stood in front of the Just Arrived book section she noticed a young man pacing in the music section. His blue hoodie was up over his head. Every few seconds, he would pull up his tattered jeans, act like he was looking at a LP, then pace some more. He projected an anxious energy. 

Emily returned to the books, thinking about what Jill, the secretary at the office, would like. The young man in the blue hoodie was walking toward her, she wished her husband was here, but he was down the block at the sporting goods store. The young man walked past and Emily swore she could feel his energy prickle her skin.

“Give him a cup of hot chocolate.” She heard a voice say as a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate, with marshmallows appeared in her other hand. It took all of her control not to yell or squeeze the cup in her hand.

Emily looked around for the voice. “Hello?” she quietly asked.

“Trust me, all you need to do is give him the cup of hot chocolate.”

“Who are you, where are you?” Emily’s heart was racing. Nervously she looked into her own cup of hot chocolate for an answer.

“I’m not in your hot chocolate.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Emily said and laughed a little. “But who are you, what’s going on here?”

“Look up.”

Emily slowly raised her head. On top of the bookshelf sat an elf. But not decked out in red with a plastic smile. A real elf, just like the Christmas shows. A small blue triangle shaped hat. A matching blue shirt, with white and blue striped pants. His shoes were white with blue fuzz around the top. He even had pointed ears.

“I’m Dell, a Christmas elf.”

Emily almost crushed both cups as she stepped back.

“Whoa, it’s alright. Look around, I’m not the only one.”

Emily’s eyes grew wide as she saw at least eight other elves, all in different colors, some were female, long black hair flowing from their hats. Each of them seemed to be following a shopper. Emily turned to Dell with her mouth open.

“I don’t have time to explain, but let’s just say we are where people still believe in the spirit of Christmas.”

Emily could only nod her head.

“I really do need you to give Sam that hot chocolate, please.” And he was gone. Emily looked around the store, all the elves were gone. She turned her head back around to her left and the young man, Sam, was fidgeting with some Christmas ornaments. Emily froze. She thought she saw the handle of a gun when Sam pulled his pants back up.

“Give him the hot chocolate and go sit down. That’s all you need to do.”

Dell’s voice got her feet moving.

“Excuse me, young man, I thought you might like a cup of hot chocolate,” Emily looked down to see the marshmallows floating on top, “with marshmallows.” She held her hand out for him.

Sam had turned slowly around as Emily was speaking, tense, ready to run. He looked at her, then at the cup of hot chocolate, back to Emily, then took the cup without saying anything.

Emily awkwardly nodded at Sam then went to a bench in the book section with Rudolph standing next to it. As she sat down she felt her whole body tremble. She took a few long breaths and sipped her drink. She kept her head down for a few minutes, slowly sipping her hot chocolate.

Sam’s voice made her look up.

“Why did you give me this?”

Emily almost said because an elf told me to, but instead she said, “I thought you would like it. My favorite part is when the marshmallows melt a little, and you get the chocolate and the marshmallow in the same sip.”

Sam thought for a moment, then sat down next to her.

Emily honestly wanted to run. She looked around to see if Dell was there, or any of the elves. She only saw a few shoppers look their way, then back to whatever they had in their hands.

“My dad used to make us hot chocolate. On the stove. He had this old pot, you know, not the shiny kind we have now, but like cast iron?” Sam looked over at her. 

Emily said, “Yeah, like my grandma had.”

“Yeah, he said it used to be his grandmother’s. He would heat up milk, then use these chunks of chocolate, add salt even, and a splash of vanilla, I think.” Sam sat quiet for a second.

“Did you have little marshmallows?” Emily felt the need to keep Sam talking.

Sam laughed a quiet pain filled chuckle. “No, he would drop one big one in our cups. It took forever to even melt a little.” He turned toward Emily, a small smile on his face. She noticed he had soft hazel eyes.

“I bet,” Emily smiled back. She almost asked about his dad, but it seemed too big of a question.

“Anyway, I didn’t say thank you, so thank you.” Sam stood up.

Emily stood up, too. She held back the urge to hug him, instead she held out her hand. Sam took it. “Merry Christmas, Sam,” Emily said.

Sam stood there holding her hand, squeezing it a little at the sound of his name. His eyes wide with the question of how she knew his name, instead he said, “Merry Christmas to you.” 

Emily saw his eyes swell. She squeezed his hand to let him know she saw him. They slowly let go, and Sam lifted his cup to her and turned away taking a sip. Emily noticed his walk was steady.

“Thank you,” she heard Dell say. She looked down into her cup but then smiled and looked up as Dell was fading away with a small wave.

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Christmas Letter 2025

Well, it was 60 degrees today. Only a few days away from Christmas, and I was walking in shorts this afternoon. My youngest daughter said it shouldn’t feel like spring right now.

But it does feel like Christmas for me… Everyone, plus significant others, will be home for Christmas morning. And mom and I have decided that Santa is coming for everyone this year. That means stockings and everything. I can’t wait!

But that is in a few days, there were a number of cool days in 2025.

One of the best days from this last year was seeing The Outsiders musical with my wife and three younger daughters. I wondered how they would make such an iconic book into a musical. I was impressed, and even teared up at different times during the performance. 

Speaking of music, my Spotify top 100 songs were a mix of classic and more modern music. My number one song was Dermot Kennedy’s “Moments Passed” and in conjunction with the blog post, “Song Number 25”, my 25th song was “Overrated” by Thriving Ivory. 

The coolest musical events though came from two interviews Dante and I conducted for our podcast, The Creative Moment. We had the honor of interviewing Rascal Martinez and Chris Glover, known as Penguin Prison. It was fun learning about how the muse works in the musical world.

But we didn’t just interview musicians, we talked to LMDesign8, a virtual and real world artist, and Konn Lavery, an author that writes horror novels and stories.

In a few months we will host our 100th episode! Stay tuned for that milestone.

On a personal note, I recently released a new collection of poetry, Life in Poetic Form. And released an audio poetry EP, Open Mic, which is available on all streaming services. Even though I had over 10 major rejections for my writing, not just poetry this year, I believe that my writing can make an impact for others. So, I write…

I am finishing up two books during break. I will then meet my goal of 60 books this year! One of my biggest surprises was the two volumes of the graphic novel, Starve. The series was written in 2016, but I came across the first collection in a book store. Then I ordered the second volume because I loved the story. This is the wonder of books, the timelessness of a story in physical form. The power of browsing a book store. The slight chance of finding a story that brings wonder and joy into your life.

This year also reinforced that magic of recommendations. Of the connection people build by suggesting a book they love to someone else. I read the book, Stoner, by John Williams, because it was recommended to me by a Twitter (I know its X…) friend. We talked about the book on X as I read it. I loved the book. Again, the power of books / stories to build connections in this world.

I’m not sure what 2026 will bring. How many rejections I will read. How many blog posts I will write. What new music I will hear, or new stories I will read. 

But I know I will continue to try to build connections, to share poetry, and to let love lead me through the next 365 days.

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Collin Raye Inspires Me

Collin Raye inspires me.

As a birthday gift, I took my wife to the Collin Raye and Lonestar Christmas and Hits concert on Saturday. It was a fun night. Our first concert was Collin Raye at a state fair when we were dating. So, it was cool to see him again in concert after 29 years.

Collin Raye is 65 years old. His voice is the same, his personality, too. But we all grow old. Collin Raye had some fun with that truth. He shared a story about injuring his knee. He joked that he needed to catch his breath after singing “That’s My Story”.

But the energy and joy was tangible as he performed. His voice took us back in time, yet brought joy to the moment. As is my nature I thought of a few things about art, about creativity, and about life.

First was the powerful force art is. In this case music, but in my life poetry and stories and these blog posts. Overall the night was joyful and energetic, but also reflective when Collin Raye sang some of the more spiritual Christmas songs.

I hope my words have that effect on readers. To make them think, to be moved toward the emotions and reflections I try to express in my words.

Second was that AI can not match human creation and expression.  Yes, I think it can help an artist reach their creative goal, but that’s the point. Art is human based. It is a reflection of our souls, or hearts, or views of this life. AI can not do that.  I think we have a ways to go before we find the balance between technology and human creative importance, but I trust in the power and need for us to express the meaning of this world through our chosen art.

Lastly, this life is a moment. We get to choose the moments, the content, the meaning of it. The whole concert was a wonderful time, filled with funny moments: the keyboard player for Lonestar received a few drinks from a couple in the front row. It was a ‘had to be there’ moment. The Christmas songs reminded all of us of the upcoming holiday and what it should be about.

And seeing Collin Raye perform at age 65 without reservations was an inspiration for me.

Here is one of the songs Collin Raye performed at the first concert. This song has always stuck with me.

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The End of Magic

It has happened. My youngest daughter knows that mom and I are Santa, Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny.

But not by me. I officially have never ended the magic of childhood. Last night my youngest daughter (11 years-old) asked my wife about it. And mom confirmed what my daughter had figured out. Ironically because the Tooth Fairy has been inconsistent.

Ironically, two nights ago my youngest daughter asked me about the Easter Bunny. About how we knew who’s eggs were whose. I said I received a magical letter that had the instructions. She asked to see the letter. I said it dissolved into magical pieces once I read it. She thought that was cool.

But as we grow older, the magic of life seems to dissolve into dust and we can’t get it back. Last night, mom informed our daughter that I still believed. My daughter asked my wife not to tell me that she knew the truth.

The magic of believing… in joyful expressions. 

I still believe in Santa, in the Easter Bunny, in the magic of the idea that life should be joyful. For my consistent readers, you know I believe in expressing our love to others everyday. But there is a deeper joyful feeling in believing in the magic of this life. Of childhood, of receiving a gift, or hidden eggs, simply because you are you. 

So, even though all my children know that I am Santa, I still believe…

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Christmas Letter 2024

2024 has been a hard year, for a number of reasons. Which I will not elaborate on because Christmas letters are not supposed to be sad and depressing. They are truthful, but should bring some happiness to the readers. So, I will just say 2024 has been a hard year, and leave it at that.

A Christmas letter has a number of purposes. The first is to highlight important events from the past year.

And I know everyone wants to know what my Spotify Wrapped entailed. Prince was my number one artist, again. But thanks to my youngest daughter, Taylor Swift landed in second place! Plus, she had three songs make my top 100 for the year.

My number one song of 2024 was actually a surprise. It is “Satellite” by Harry Styles.

I do like this song… just didn’t know I played it so much.  The rest of my top 10 was not surprising.

I spent a lot of time on the road attending different author events (I blogged about some of those events, A Poet Travels 1550 Miles). Those events really kept my spirit filled. 

So did producing The Creative Moment podcast with my son. We have recorded 8 seasons so far. And have no plans on stopping anytime soon.

One of the most bitter sweet aspects of life is family. As a dad it is amazing to see each of my children grow and build their lives, but it is also a reminder that time is moving forward. Change happens. New hardships appear, but so do new joys and experiences. Being a dad is enduring the most joyful heartbreak everyday.

I will not complete my reading challenge this year. I try to read 60 books each year. I am projected (got three books I’m reading right now) to finish at 47 books. But that’s OK, I have read some cool books this year. Here are five of my favorite (in no particular order):

1. Nothing But Blackened Teeth by Cassandra Khaw

2. What Happens in Nebraska by Cat Dixon

3. Impossible Knots by K.P. DeLaney (a guest on The Creative Moment)

4. Denison Avenue by Christina Wong

5. Dickens and Prince: A Particular Kind of Genius by Nick Hornby

And last a Christmas letter is meant to stay connected with family and friends, to share joy… and so I wish you a joyful holiday season!

And I’ll end this letter with my 100th song from my most played list:

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Christmas Lights 2023

The house is quiet. I have just finished grading essays. I have my headphones on and my ‘Just Some Good Songs’ playlist on random. The Christmas tree is glowing, it is the only light in the house (besides the glow of my computer screen). 

And I am at a loss for words but feel the need to write. So, not sure where this post will go but I’m enjoying the way the keys feel as they rebound against my finger tips. I am awake because my mind is running trying to figure out how to express the depth of my emotions lately.  How to share the anger and disappointment I feel. How it feels like the world is out to prove that Hate wins, that people don’t really care about anyone but themselves, and that anything I do is kindle for the bonfire of apathy I see in the hallways.

And then there are the Christmas lights. Red, Green, Blue and White points of joy that seem to sing a Christmas carol that I can’t quite recognize, yet soothes my soul.

I make it through each day because my family needs me. But there are moments when I feel like all my joints are held together with masking tape and the next step will cause me to fall apart like a Lego tower. But I take the step anyway, and the tape holds.

And the Christmas lights continue to shine. And I will fall asleep soon with a hint of a Christmas carol playing in the background of my dreams.

But for now, I’m writing. For now I am hoping these words matter to someone besides me…

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Coffee and Christmas Lights

I’m not sure where this blog post will end up, but it will cover coffee and Christmas lights. The idea for this post comes from the book Coffee: Philosophy for Everyone: Grounds for Debate, which I recently finished. I loved the book! It got me thinking about lots of things, but mostly coffee.

I proposed to my wife at the local coffee shop, The Blue Moon. We even had wedding photos taken there. I helped create their signature drink, The Silken Moon. 

It is past 9 o’clock in the evening and I have a cup of coffee next to me and the Christmas lights on. I’m drinking a holiday flavored coffee. The cinnamon mixed with the warmth of the coffee fills my soul. The Christmas lights make me smile.

The house is quiet. The coffee cup has a tangible weight to it, like the serenity of the darkness at the edge of the colored lights. I know I am here. I know the world is moving outside the house. There are moments happening right now that are breaking people’s spirits. I hate knowing that. It is sad to feel helpless to change it.

But I am here.

I take a strong sip, the coffee flows down my throat in a warm wave. A blue Christmas light is flickering, but staying lit. And I am doing what I love to do, writing. Creating a moment through words to share with loved ones and strangers. I may never change the world, but I can create a moment that helps build up someone instead of tearing them down.

I can share a symbolic cup of coffee with you. Share a moment of peace that shines like a Christmas tree. This post will be a connection between us, even if it is for just a few minutes. I hope it warms your heart.

My cup is empty, the hour is late, here is to a new day and a chance to feel loved.

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Not Under the Tree

Yesterday at church Father started his sermon talking about which experience was better: Attending a Husker game in person or watching it on TV. He expanded on the idea to discuss how important it is to be present in our faith, to be present in our lives.

Then my youngest daughter noticed that time moves. I let her wear my watch during church. At first she was fascinated by the backlight button. She would push the button, then cup her hand over the face to see the numbers light up. Toward the end of the service, she noticed that the numbers changed. My daughter updated me every minute through the last song.

“Dad, it’s 10:28 now!” she announced.

She was fascinated with this new knowledge… that time moves on… no matter what we do.

We can spend it on a phone. We can spend it on a computer. We can spend it learning. We can spend it with friends and family. Are we present as time moves forward?

Being present means that we have to deal with both the positive and negative of our lives. This is the biggest hurdle for us. It is easy to be present in our life when things are good. But to be present in life when things are tough, when you have to face the truth of your life, to face your fears and doubts; that takes strength.

The other hurdle is the simple task of being present in the routine of life. We work, we clean, we post on social media, we eat a snack, we live everyday. Being present in the routine is hard. It is easy to just let time move forward. “It’s 10:17! Time for bed.” And another day goes by without us really living it.

To be present everyday. To embrace the complexity of this existence. To face our fears. To love with an open heart. To find joy in this world. That means living our life. That is opening a present that can’t be found under the tree.

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Enough of…

Christmas tree with title

It was about 2 o’clock this morning.  I was stroking my little girl’s hair, trying to help her fall back to sleep after giving her some medicine. She came home with a fever and scratchy throat. She was sleeping on the couch, so I was sleeping on the floor. She wouldn’t fall asleep alone, even with the Christmas tree lights still on. I was staring at the Christmas tree with two presents underneath when I thought about what it would be like if that was all the presents we placed under the tree.

I thought about how the girls would react on Christmas morning. Their shocked expressions. I thought about what they might say. What would we say? I was tired, alright…  But, as you, faithful readers know, I started to think about something deeper.

The scene in my head faded as I knew that there would be more presents under the tree. I smiled as my daughter shifted and began to breathe deeply, finally falling back to sleep. I also smiled because I was thinking about how my children would smile as they opened their presents. As a family we do reinforce that gifts are one way that people share their love with each other. That no matter what the gift is, it was given in love.

But then my thoughts turned. I gingerly lifted my hand from my daughter’s hair. Waiting to see if she would wake back up. She didn’t. I turned fully to face the Christmas tree. And I reflected on an idea I had been think about for a while now, that the world has enough of…

The world has enough hate.

The world has enough pain.

The world has enough ignorance.

The world has enough broken hearts and broken dreams.

The world has enough apathy.

The world has enough phoniness.

 

What the world needs, and not just for Christmas, is Love.

The world needs more books, more poetry.

The world needs respect.

The world needs more people striving for their dreams, having their heart on fire because they are pursuing their goals.

The world needs more people supporting each other, instead of dragging others down.

The world needs more children to smile, every morning.

 

Maybe it was the tiredness, or the way the lights promised a beautiful moment if only for a while, but I started to cry. I felt overwhelmed by everything. The classroom, a sick child, being a father, of the fear I have every time my children walk out the front door into this world.

But there was already two presents under the tree, there would be more. There would be smiles and joy because every present is a symbol of someone’s love for the recipient.

And then there is this post, these words… they are my gift to you, every time.

 

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Life Without a Phone

iphoneI know this is going to shock you… I have been without my iPhone for two weeks. It finally died during Christmas break. I have a replacement phone on the way, but it is back-ordered. I’ve learned a few things about how a smartphone impacts our daily life.

Emerson

Created at PicLit.com

First, life goes on. Honestly. in some ways, it has been good not to have my phone… or maybe I should say apps. Some readers may have noticed that I have not been as active on Twitter lately. Especially with sharing my typography photos I make with Typic. Which I also share those photos on iTagged and Instagram. I do miss taking photos and not just for the creative things I do with them.

I could not take a photo of any of my children during the break. No smiling faces as they opened presents. No fun shots as the family let our new guinea pig, Kota, play in the living room.  Even worse, no chance to share those photos with Grandma and grandpa in Wyoming. I also couldn’t send text messages to other friends and family just to say hello. Let alone communicate with my wife to handle our busy everyday life. Who’s picking up who? Can I stop and get milk?

But life goes on.

I am more connected with the people around me. I’m not checking my Twitter notifications while my daughters take a bath.  I’m playing or talking to them as they make bubble beards. I am getting projects completed in half the time at work. I notice how people are feeling through their eyes. And honestly, right now, I feel more relaxed.  I feel free, not connected to my phone.

This feeling is interesting because when my phone first died I was stressed. I couldn’t check in on one of my favorite games, Puzzle and Dragons. Puzzle and Dragons uses a simple psychology reinforcement of tracking how many days you have played total and how many days in a row. Before my phone died, I had played for over 600 days. My streak was 496 days. Now, I don’t spend hours a day playing Puzzle and Dragons. But as you can see, I was connected to it.I won’t even discuss how many worlds I have lost in Minecraft Pocket EditionTheTop

 

 

 

I can’t calculate  how much time I spent with Twitter alone. Add all the time I listen to my music, checking Flipboard, researching new apps and just texting friends, and you can see that I was connected to the phone.

There are a number of studies about our addictive behavior with technology, this is a true concern for our development as people and a culture. These last two weeks have been an interesting case study of how connected my life is to my phone. Without my phone I am more connected with the people around me.  I’m more connected to what is going on in my life right now. But without my phone my connections with people and interest is affected. Connecting with my family in other states, friends and colleagues on Twitter, and even communicating with my family to make our daily life run smoothly has been lost.  I miss taking photos and playing Puzzle and Dragons. I miss creating typography pictures.

I learned I can live without a smartphone and when I get my replacement to make sure I disconnect from the phone to connect with the people around me. The past two weeks have reinforced that technology should enhance our lives, not control them.

But the most interesting thing I learned is that I don’t want to live without a smartphone. And that idea is for another post, I think the mailman has just pulled up…

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