Story 8:
In 2013, my brother’s family were coming over for Christmas from where they lived in Australia, used to 40°C temperatures, sunshine, and hot weather. Some were excited about the idea of coming to Southern England, but my brother wa:rned that it would not be the winter wonderland they expected—it would probably just be gray, damp, and a bit meh.
They landed at Heathrow early in the morning, with it still dark outside, and went upstairs for a short nap as more than 24 hours of travelling had worn them out. As they slept, the skies opened, and they woke up to find a blanket of white.
Story 9:
Story 10:
When I was in the 8th grade, we were having hard times, and we knew it would be a lean Christmas. Our cousins had gotten new 10-speed bikes in October, and we had envied them from the start. We always went to our grandparents’ house for Christmas Eve. There were quite a few people at the house that year, but it wasn’t as crowded as it could’ve been.
When all the gifts had been opened, Mother had my sister and me pick up the wrapping paper and throw it away. When we stepped out onto the porch, there were two bikes. I looked back at Daddy, and he was just smiling big. It dawned on me that the bikes were ours.
We dropped the trash and got on the bikes. I have no idea how they pulled that off, but considering our finances, it was a Christmas miracle.
