Throw Back Christmas Ghost Story

I wrote this a couple of years ago-it’s a Christmas Time Ghost Story. It was fun and I think has some potential to be expanded:

Patience and Experience At Christmas

First posted December 2019

 

Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

” Do you know that people used to tell ghost stories at Christmas?” Patience told her sister Experience as they made their way home from the bus stop at the end of their road.

The road was filled with black ice and hard compacted  snow and the sidewalks were  almost non-existent so the girls carefully picked their way across the blue and white winter wasteland and their normally quick walk was taking much longer tonight.

That is why Patience was more chatty then usual and Experience was less so. She was focused on getting home.

Experience shrugged.  ” My favorite color is pink. People would never believe that about me.”

” What has that got to do with people enjoying a good ghost story after eating a huge Christmas meal and relaxing by firelight and candles?”

” Nothing. I just thought that while you’re throwing out random pointless facts, I’d join in the fun.”

The oddly named sisters- whose parents had been devoutly religious in life- gave their daughters their names because they thought it would be funny which was about the extent of the fun they ever indulged in.

” Well. It sounds fun and cozy to me. Plus I love ghost stories.” Patience told her sister.

” Seriously Patience. Ghost stories?”

Patience shrugged.

” I mean. Ghost stories. That’s just- stupid.”

” You have no soul Experience. ”

The sisters turned back and looked down the street at the undisturbed drifts of snow that they had crossed.

” Yes I do.” Experience said.

The  shadowy wisps of two girls who had died at the house at the end of the road of tuberculosis and found themselves walking away from it  in the dark and the snow just before Christmas every year considered their situation and pressed on-

because every year Patience and Experience hoped  one Christmas they would make it home for Christmas- and they always thought on these walks, they might.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Just as a sidenote- in researching my family history I found out I did have Aunts named Patience and Experience and their Father was named Lancelot. Seriously. You can’t make stuff like that up.

amm

Tippy

Holidailies Prompt: What is your favorite holiday tradition, and why?

Francis Bacon, Study for a Running Dog, c. 1954

My favorite holiday tradition isn’t exactly a well known one, but it’s one that my family have jumps into with gusto.

We love to stuff ourselves with a great dinner, we play some games and then when you are settled in and feeling warm and happy and your guard is down we start to tell ghost stories.

My favorite ghost stories always involved animals. Those stories stuck with me and one of my favorites was one that  Great Grand Uncle Percy told one about his Aunt  Lorna and her dog Tippy.

Victoria BC December 24th 1905

Lorna and Tippy died in a fire on Christmas Eve. If that wasn’t tragic enough,  Uncle Percy said that Lorna actually got out of the house in time but Tippy was trapped in the kitchen and Lorna was standing there on her lawn in the middle of the night with her house lighting up the dark night – the fire burned so bright he said that it looked like the shining at noon- listening to Tippy howling in fear and pain.

Just as help got there they saw Lorna running back into her house for Tippy and with seconds the entire house collapsed in flames.

Shortly after Lorna’s death my Great Grandfather’s family left Canada and they moved to Seattle, Washington.

The memories you see where more then anyone could bear- Lorna and Tippy’s deaths weighed on them so they left those sad deaths behind them- or so they thought.

The first Christmas the Godfrey’s spent in Washington state was a quiet one- the food was good, the games were played and the carols were sung and when it came to the part of the evening where the story telling would start, they sat in the sitting room with the decorated tree in one corner and the cold unlit fireplace hidden behind a three panel fireplace screen with a dog’s face smiling out at them.

My Uncle said that someone suggested maybe some music would be nice when they heard someone at the door.

First they heard  a  little metalic rattle and then they heard a little tap, tap, tap on the door.

Aunt Lorna had taught her dog, who was named Princess at the time to ‘tap ‘ on the door when she wanted into a room or they were visiting friends or family. It was Uncle Percy’s daughter who was learning to talk at the time who said,  ” Princess is Tippy at the door.  Let her in! ”

Eventually Princess became Tippy.

My family doesn’t rattle easiy, their brains are well wired and though they had faults, as we all do, glitching  brains was not one of them.

Uncle Lewis was the one who went to the door. He was the one who opened it. He was the first one who saw Tippy sitting at the door  wearing her Christmas collar that Aunt Lorna had made special for her- it had a generous red bow on the side and little silver bells hanging from the front on a little loop.

Tippy stood, she wagged her tail and then she walked past Uncle Lewis straight to the fireplace. She turned in three circles and then she settled down with a happy little sigh.

My family settled on some music and little glasses of sherry and when the evening was over, Tippy got up and walked to the front door.

Aunt Gertie opened the door and she let Tippy out.

They heard the little bells for a few minutes and then they were quiet.

Tippy still visits our family at Christmas.

Sometimes she acts like our other dogs, she tries to take food from the table. She asks for her chin to be scratched.

There are other times when she’s just a shadow near the Christmas tree, a tinkling of little bells but she is always there.

Very much in the same way she is here now as I write this.

Merry Christmas.

AMG