Chalela13

Chalela13

Chalela13

Chalela13

Chalela13

Tis the night before Christmas, and all through the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter— I sprang up to see what was the matter! To the window I flew, threw open the sash, And there was St. Nick with his sleigh in a flash! Eight tiny reindeer, a jolly old elf so quick, Down the chimney he came with his sack full of gifts. He filled every stocking, silent and bright, Winked with a smile, then vanished from sight. I heard him exclaim as he drove out of view— “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!” Morning brought laughter, gifts, and delight, Hearts full of love in the soft Christmas light. The magic of kindness and joy had arrived— A season of hope, where true wonder thrives. Merry Christmas! Chalela13

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In the moonlit fog of All Hallows' Eve, young Eliza wandered alone, her pumpkin basket swinging empty. Whispers drew her to the crumbling manor, its door creaking open unbidden. Inside, shadows danced like forgotten souls. A mirror reflected not her face, but a grinning skeleton clutching her hand. She screamed, but the grip tightened. Outside, her basket lay abandoned—now brimming with candy, stained red. No one ever saw Eliza again. Chalela13

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