The Christmas Child

By Mary Elizabeth Robinson

Ten-year-old Becca Shepherd doesn’t believe in Santa Claus any more and she certainly doesn’t believe she is special – at all! But everything Becca believes is flipped upside down when a madman called The Ice kidnaps Santa and she’s the only one who can save him.

Soon she learns of her destiny as The Christmas Child and is whisked off to the North Pole in an attempt to save Christmas. There she finds a polar bear city, snowflake post and an enchanted forest. She uncovers ancient magic and wonder, but also encounters terrible danger at every turn. Can Becca survive this thrilling adventure, save Santa and discover the truth about the magic of belief? Or will she be forever known as the girl who ruined Christmas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Elizabeth Robinson
• Release date: Nov 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9780615429885

Mary Elizabeth Robinson

Mary Elizabeth Robinson is a writer, singer-songwriter, artist, photographer and Muppet fanatic who lives in Colorado. She is a special education teacher. She thinks that teaching amazing students every day is great inspiration. Mary loves Karaoke, Maraschino cherries and if she could turn into a mermaid and live the rest of her days under the sea, she would do so in an instant. Mary loves to laugh and tries to have a sense of humor about life and all it's crazy twists and turns!

Book preview

The Christmas Child

A novel by

Mary Elizabeth Robinson

Illustrations by Kristen L White

Monkey Beth Media

Englewood, Colorado

The Christmas Child

By Mary Elizabeth Robinson

http://www.monkeybethmedia.com

Copyright (c) 2009 by Mary Elizabeth Robinson

All rights reserved

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise – without prior written permission of the publisher.

Smashwords Edition

Published by Monkey Beth Media, PO Box 2271,

Englewood, CO 80150-2271

[e-mail]

http://monkeybethmedia.wordpress.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009908605

International Standard Book Number: 978-0-615-42988-5

First American Edition, October 2009

Second American Edition, November 2010

Third American Edition, October 2011

Ebook First American Edition, October 2011

Illustrations by Kristen L. White

Cover Design by Sharon Farber

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

To Mom, Dad and Brian – for always believing.

To all the beautiful stars that lit my path and led me home.

Prologue

The Ancients waited patiently in a tight circle around Santa’s black leather boots as he signed the letter. His fingers shook and he could hardly grip the pen. The Frozen Forest was silent in anticipation. Santa’s breath escaped his pursed lips like little clouds in the icy air. He rolled up the scroll of parchment that was addressed to The Christmas Child. Then he tied the scroll with a red satin ribbon.

Santa took a deep breath and knelt down in the center of the circle to see The Ancients clearer in the dim forest light. I’m ready, he said.

The Ancients nodded in unison. Santa gasped as a wave of electricity rolled through his body and out his arm. A brilliant silver light shot out of Santa’s fingertips. The ray of light encircled the scroll in his hand.

One by one, The Ancients lifted their hands and piercing rays of colored lights surged out of their fingers toward Santa. Burnt orange, poppy red, sky blue and deep moss green light intertwined with Santa’s and wove into a beautiful braid around the scroll.

As the light rays fused, the scroll flew out of Santa’s hand and soared into the air like it was caught in a breeze, even though the air in the Frozen Forest was completely still. With a flash, the scroll disappeared. The soul pact was cast.

It’s done? asked Santa.

The Ancients nodded again and handed him a small snow globe before they vanished. Tiny bits of white danced inside. The snow swirled fierce like a blizzard inside the glass and Santa felt that strange electricity flow through him once again. He closed his eyes as a deep peace settled into his heart. He knew that somewhere, far away, a very special baby had just entered the world. A brave girl, whose belief could keep him from harm.

Chapter One

I could only eat nineteen peas for dinner - nothing else. The nineteenth pea almost came back up. Christmas was only one week away and I was sure things couldn’t get any worse. Today I had flunked my spelling test, I found out that Alex Lemmon liked Judy Young, got my school pictures back (yuck), I discovered two new freckles and I stopped believing in Santa Claus. Green pea puke at the dinner table would have pushed me right over the edge.

How’d you do on your test today? my older brother asked as he got a second helping of beef stew. Thanks a lot, Ben! I wished he would zip it. Why did Ben always have to stick his nose in my business anyway? Ben was tall and the most popular boy in school. We both have our grandfather’s famous hazel eyes, but our resemblance ends there.

I had hoped I wouldn’t have to tell anyone about the test. Mom might have forgotten too if Ben had kept his big mouth shut.

Not so good. I mumbled.

Oh, Rebecca Shepherd. Mom said, What are we going to do about your grades?

I guess I was wrong before - things could get worse. Mom only calls me Rebecca when I really mess up.

I’ll try harder next time. I said.

She didn’t look like she believed me, but I couldn’t tell her the real reason I flunked. After dinner, Mom, Dad, and Ben left the table. It was my night to clean up. I looked at the stack of dirty dishes in the sink and groaned. I was going to have plenty of time to think about my miserable day.

There was a good reason why I flunked my spelling test and the reason was Michael O’Donnell, the meanest boy in fifth grade. Michael O’Donnell was not a boy you want in your grade, let alone in your class. I think even the teachers were afraid of him. In second grade, he pushed me into the mud in front of the whole school on Field Day. My heart was too bad to do much running, but I was allowed to be in the long jump. He ruined the only event I could even participate in. He swore to the principal it was an accident, but he flashed me a sly grin as I got back on my feet.

Today, right before our spelling test, I was minding my own business and reviewing my letter to Santa Claus. Michael saw me and grabbed the letter out of my hands. I knew better than to tell on him. I just wanted him to leave me alone.

What’s this, Shepherd?

Nothing.

Santa Claus. You’re kidding me. You still believe in Santa? Hey everybody, listen up.

I tried to get the letter back, but Michael pushed me down into my chair. Mrs. Herron had to leave the classroom to get Mandy Ray to the nurse before the test because Mandy had stapled her thumb and was about to faint. As soon as they were out the door, Michael walked to the front of the room with my letter.

Dear Santa… he said in a baby-like voice.

He read the whole thing in front of the class. All I could do was sit and watch. When he was finished reading, he cackled like a hyena and pointed at me. I thought I’d die when the rest of the class laughed too! I tried so hard not to cry.

Here’s your letter, Baby Becca, he said as he crumpled up my letter and threw it at my face.

The letter hit me right between the eyes and everyone laughed harder. I bolted for the door the second the bell rang. I left my supplies all over my desk; I even forgot my coat. I didn’t care. I wanted to be as far away from everyone’s laughter as possible.

Before dinner, I sat in my room and pretended to study, but Santa Claus was heavy on my mind. Could push-me-in-the-mud Michael O’Donnell be telling the truth? I don’t even know how many times the school has held him back, but maybe he knew something I didn’t. I realized that I probably was the only ten-year-old who still believed in Santa, but I really wanted him to be real.

In all honesty, I had to admit that it was harder to believe in Santa any longer, because of the sleigh bells. I had asked for a sleigh bell the last two years for Christmas. When I was eight, I got a Bratz doll and a set of Magic Tree House books instead of a bell. When I was nine, I got a bike. I had really wanted all that stuff, but not nearly as much as I wanted the sleigh bell.

A bell would have proved that Santa was real and I was right to believe for so long, when other kids had given up on him. I had imagined that the bell would glisten like fresh snow. I had even dreamt about taking it to class to show it off. I would be the coolest girl in school.

I couldn’t understand why I never got the sleigh bell. Didn’t Santa want kids to believe in him? I pulled my crumpled letter out of my backpack and tried to silence the sound of laughter in my head.

Dear Santa,

Hello. This is Rebecca Shepherd. (You can probably tell by my handwriting!)

I have been very good this year. At least I have tried to be good. I haven’t started fights with Ben as much and I try to clean my room whenever Mom asks.

If it is not too much trouble, I would really, really like a sleigh bell this year. I have asked for one before, but maybe my letters got lost in the mail. I promise I will be happy with any present, but if you can give me a bell I will be extra good FOREVER!

Thank you again! I hope you like the cookies this year. Mom put them in the oven, but I did all the icing.

Merry Christmas,

Becca Shepherd.

I really wouldn’t be happy with anything other than a bell, but I wasn’t going to tell Santa that and risk not getting any presents at all. I read my letter a couple of times, and each time my heart sank deeper in my chest until it almost disappeared.

Christmas has always meant more to me than other kids. I almost died before I was born. My heart was too small and the tubes were not tied up right. There is a super long word for what happened to me, but I can never pronounce it. I was born on December twenty-fourth in the middle of the night. I was super premature and Mom almost died too. I was in the hospital for months and had to have two heart surgeries before my first birthday. Mom and Dad always said I was the best Christmas present they ever got. That was the only time that I have ever been special, and I don’t even remember it.

Maybe that was the reason why I believed in Santa for so long. I guess I wanted to believe he helped to save me; that my birth was a present. It didn’t even bother me that Ben got more presents every year. My connection to Christmas was enough of a gift.

I saw how stupid it was to think that now. It was quite clear that I was a baby for believing in Santa so long. I never got a sleigh bell and I probably wasn’t going to get one this year either. I guess Michael O’Donnell was right for once.

Then I heard Mom calling me down to dinner. Before I went downstairs, I ripped my letter into tiny bits of confetti. I ripped so fast and so hard my fingers hurt. I slammed the paper scraps into the trashcan and said, Santa, yeah right!

* * *

I put the last dish in the dishwasher and wiped off the table. Mom’s disappointment in me still hung in the air like rotten broccoli. I dumped the crumbs from the table down the sink and my new freckles mocked me through the reflection in the kitchen window. Which reminded me about my school picture. Another disaster. I cringed when I thought about how crappy my school picture turned out, and this was the re-take picture! Even the small plastic window on the envelope betrayed me by displaying the worst part of my face – the heavy blanket of freckles that covered my nose. I hated my freckles! No one else in my family had freckles.

The freckles weren’t the worst part of the picture though. I also had one eye open, one eye closed and my mouth looked like a rainbow trout about to be hooked! Mom is so pretty, what happened to me? I tried a swipe at my squirrelly brown bangs with my arm, but they slid right back into my eyes. I turned off the kitchen light so I wouldn’t have to see my reflection any longer. My eyeballs hurt from crying and the nineteen peas in my tummy took turns slamming together like Sumo wrestlers. I just wanted to go to bed and get a do-over for today.

With all the clean up done, I headed back up to my room to really work on homework. I skipped up the stairs (two at a time) and heard a loud thump coming from my bedroom as I hit the top stair. I looked around, but no one was there. Ben was in his room with the door closed and Mom and Dad were nowhere in sight. Curiosity led me down the hall in search of the thump. Nothing. I reached for my bedroom door and this time instead of a thump, I heard a whoosh like a gust of wind inside my room.

I opened the door and looked around. I checked the window, but it was shut tight against the December cold. My thoughts raced as I zeroed in on my bed. I inched closer to the bed and blinked. I must be imaging things. It was my letter to Santa! I looked down at the piece of paper and retraced my steps. I mimed the ripping of the letter and turned the trashcan upside down. It didn’t make any sense, yet there it was - all in one piece again.

My hands trembled as I picked up the letter and smoothed it out. I could see