The Contest: Write a children’s story about a Holiday Mishap, mix-up, miscommunication, mistake, or potential disaster…. Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 350 words.
SPOT the Angel
Spot flopped, tongue dragging. Bella and Nella chewed their cud, as they swayed stage right. No easy task to corral those shaggy cows in the Highland field, but Spot had yipped and nipped until furry heads raised, big brown eyes blinking, they followed Ben down the mucky path. “You’re an angel, Spot,” said Ben, as he ruffled the fluffy dog’s ears.
Billy and Lilly cavorted stage left. Spot had spied them atop the crag, horns glistening in afternoon sun. Leaping through thistle, Spot yipped and nipped until they fell in line behind Ben, Bella and Nella. “A true angel, Spot! They were no match for you!”
Lester and Hester gnawed the flimsy stable. Spot had waded through rubbish to reach them scrounging behind the shed. When he yipped and nipped, they lifted one hoof then another, joining boy and beasts. “My angel, Spot! Nothing stops you,” Ben exclaimed.
Shellie and Nellie snuggled in soft hay down stage. Cornering the skittish sheep was difficult, but Spot had yipped and nipped until they followed along.
“What an angel you are,” cried Ben, as they reached the village green. The stage was lit, scene set: all it lacked were the animals. Spot yipped and nipped until each was in her place. Now he could relax.
But wait! Ben had said he’s an angel. But how? With muddy paws, burrs in fur, tangled tail, what kind of angel was he?
Spot nipped and clipped, but he still looked nothing like an angel – just a fluffy mutt, with SPOTS! Glimpsing Paddy’s Pudding Shop, he slipped through the gathering crowd.
Paws outstretched, fur shimmering white, Spot felt a true angel, balancing on stable’s peak. Until,
Bella and Nella sneezed! Billy and Lilly wheezed!
Lester and Hester sniffed the air; Shellie and Nellie cringed in despair.
“Spot! Get down from there! You’ll ruin the Christmas pageant,” cried Ben.
“But I thought I was an angel,” whimpered Spot, crouching at Ben’s feet.
“You’re an angel, Spot, but better not a floury one,” chuckled Ben. “A spotted angel you are, and that’s a fine thing to be!”