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Fanfiction
The Eighth Day Of Christmas (Hallie)
written by Shannon Bryan
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About this story
Published: 1997 | Size: 7 KB (1242 words) | Language: english | Rating: PG-13Waiting for 5 votes before displaying rating information.
based on stories and characters created by Winnie Holzman
Well, the Eighth Day of Christmas is already here. And Hallie Lowenthal
has something to say about it.
Christmas?
You're asking a Jewish girl from Texas about *Christmas*?
Actually we were the only Jewish family in like the whole *county*, so
it's not like I wasn't exposed to Christmas. In fact we usually had a
Christmas tree even. None of those lame fake ones. A real one. I
guess we always sort of combined the Jewish and Christian holidays. So
that's what exactly? Christukah? Hanumas? One time when my Dad was
really whacked on egg nog he tried to plug in the Menorah and almost set
fire to the tree.
Our poor trees always got the worst treatment. We always got a fresh
tree, but sometimes that worked to our disadvantage. Woof-Bonk got
ornery in his old age and sometimes got confused and thought that our
living room was actually the outdoors. Woof-Bonk was our dog. His real
name was Rascal. He was a miniature poodle. And as he got older, his
eyes got all milky and he lost his sight. Like most little dogs, he was
really neurotic and nervous. So when anyone came to the door he would
always freak out and bark and run towards the front door.
Unfortunately, he could never see where he was going and he was always
running into things. Really hard too. You'd think he would have
learned to run slower. So, I started calling him Woof-Bonk and the name
just stuck. But he loved the tree that last year, before we put him to
sleep. A bathroom in the living room? So he didn't have to drag his
old bones outside? A Merry Christmas for Woof-Bonk.
What else? I remember snickering whenever we sang "Oh Come All Ye
Faithful" in school. But then, I like the idea of religious orgies.
It's not that I don't like Christmas, or that I resent it, but
Christianity was sort of forced down our throats at my school. The
other dozen or so non-Christians felt that way too, I know. And it
wasn't just in school. It was the whole town. The town I lived in had
a cross on the city building and a creche that it displayed on public
property. And no one seemed to understand how that made us feel.
Nowadays that maybe wouldn't fly. But in Texas I wouldn't be willing to
take bets either way.
The most annoying of all was this guy named Tobine, who owned a Pizza
Place. He had this little billboard on the side of his place that lit
up and usually advertised his specials. But for December it also always
said "Jesus is the Reason for the Season". Well, we got sick of it one
year and went there late at night with a ladder and changed the sign so
it read, "Jesus is the Reason for the Lesion". I know it makes no
sense, but it's the only word we could spell from the letters we had to
choose from. He was scandalized and so was everyone else. Even if it
didn't make sense. And *that* was sort of the point. My parents acted
all upset when I told them, but I know they thought it was funny.
Another great Christmas was the first I spent with Brad. He came to
Texas for college, and for some reason he didn't go back to Pennsylvania
for the holidays, so I spent a lot of time with him. On Christmas Eve,
long after he had left and my parents went to bed, I heard something
downstairs and went down to check it out, in my nightgown. And there
was Brad, dressed up as Santa, waiting for me. So, I did what anyone
would do. I got on his lap and told him what I wanted. I told him that
red velvet and fur made me chafe like a bear, so he should lose the
suit. Needless to say, that year Santa came early. And often.
The problem with this little exercise, of course, is that you re asking
me about Christmas just *before* the holidays. Ask the average person
just before the holidays, and you're bound to get rosy idealistic
answers. Ask them just *after* and you'll get different answers, like
from the dissatisfied: It boiled down to me spending money on and time
with people I had no desire to see anyway. Or from those separated by
distance--or circumstances--from their loved ones: It was a reminder of
all that is missing in my life. Or, worst of all, from those that are
lost, or are alone: It felt like any other day of the year. Because,
let's just face it, for a lot of people the holidays are a time of
depression and anxiety. They just don't put that on the prepackaged
card sets.
And I've had some lonely Christmases myself. Last year wasn't great.
In fact it was pretty bad. After college I moved away from everything I
knew to be with Brad. But last year Brad and I were fighting. About a
lot of different things. And I realized that I had no one to turn to.
I had just plugged myself into Brad's world. And the people around us
were *his* friends, not really mine. And it's still really close to me
right now, the *hurt*. But one day I might look back on last Christmas
fondly too. With the passage of time. Because dog urine all over our
presents really wasn't the greatest. And, I mean, I must have been
pretty angry to climb a ladder and deface some poor Pizza Man's
property. But I look back now and see the humor in it all. Maybe I can
look back at last year that way someday too. Maybe I can remember it
fondly, even if I was miserable at the time.
And I have no idea if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Just that it
*is*.
Of *course* I hope this Hanukkah will be wonderful. So wonderful that
I'll be able to think it's wonderful just *after* it's over. But even
if I can't have that, I also hope that maybe I'll have a *moment*. Even
if it's a small one. A moment I'll be able to look back on later. A
moment of joy, or peace, or love, or even insanity. As long as it can
make me laugh. Because laughter can heal.
That's what I wish most for myself.
And that's what I wish for everyone.
Shalom.
Okay everybody, sing along!
(music = ON)
On the eighth day of Christmas the Chases' closet gave to me
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The Ninth Day Of Christmas (Brian) by Shannon Bryan and E.R. Holdridge (Shobi)Published: 1997 | Size: 6 KB (1055 words) | Language:
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Average: 4.6/5 4.6/5 (7 votes)
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