Take a famous Christmas story and rewrite it (or a scene from it) with a Narnian theme. Suggested stories include “A Christmas Carol”, “The Night Before Christmas”, “The Gift of the Magi”, “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer”…
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the nest Not a mousie was stirring but Reep, that young pest. His stocking was hung on the oak tree with care In hopes that by morning a sword would be there. Etc…
Balmy Humbug! -An Eustace Christmas by Clodsley Shovel
Twas the night before Christmas and the house was all a hub,the only one who wasn’t busy was Eustace Clarence Scrubb. He sat on his bed, looking out at the snow, saying “ba humbug, what has Christmas done for me before?” His was the only stocking not hung on the chimney with care, but the rest of his family’s stockings were the only ones there. “Who cares about Christmas?” He said in a huff, “it’s all about Santa; we’re all being bluffed. There’s no such thing as Santa.” He mumbled and moaned. “There’s nothing about the holiday.” He growled with a groan. “But maybe there is,” said a voice at the door. There Lucy stood, um…uh…and she stood there…and yeah. So Eustace spat, “what are you doing here?” He added with a sneer. “Your mother and father invited us over,” Lucy said, “we’re having tea with mint leaf and clover. It’s not just about santa, you know, Eustace, if it were just about that Christmas would be useless.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Eustace growled. “The only thing I ever hear in Christmastide is Santa Santa. It’s annoying me.” “They get it all wrong,” Lucy said with a smile. “It’s not about Santa, its about a manger, a mother, and a child.” “What child, what mother, and what manger in a stall?” Eustace asked as if he had no care at all. “Jesus, our Lord, was born on Christmas day.” Lucy said. “And if that wasn’t so, then Christmas is washed away.” “But why was this child, Jesus, born?” Eustace asked. “Was it just a coincidence that he was born on Christmas morn?” “No, Eustace.” Lucy laughed, showing all her teeth. “Christmas is named after him, for Christ is his name in Greek.” “So its not about Santa, presents, or snow.” Eustace said. “It’s about Christ, who is born tomorrow!” “Exactly, Eustace,” Lucy said with a grin. “It’s hard to make all these sentences rhyme, isn’t it?” “I know, its too hard to rhyme!” Eustace replied. So from then on Eustace learned the real meaning of Christmas, so when the night before Christmas and the house was a hub, the only one who remembered to put out the nativity scene was Eustace Clarence Scrubb. THE END
The night before Christmas by ILuvLucy
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land, not a Narnian was sturring, not even Tashbaan. The land was all white, like the last hundred years, and while the narnians were sleeping they went over their fears. But out near the lampost there arose such a clatter, that Mr.Tumnus sprang from his bed to see what was the matter. And what to his wondering eyes should apear, but an overgrown dwarf that looked very queer. He didn’t know what to say but he gave it a whirl, and he knew in a moment that it was a humam girl. “I must take her home” said the fawn in his head, “or the witch might find out and I’ll have something to dread”. So they did what he said and walked to his house. They weren’t seem by anyone, except Reepicheap the mouse.
So into the house did the two of them go, with all the packages and parcels and an umbrella full of snow. As he drew in his head, and was turning around, down into a chair Lucy sat with a bound. She was dressed all in fur, from her head to her toes, and her clothes were all covered in needles and snow. A big old smile she had spread on her face, and she looked like and angel with a whole lot of grace. She listened to his song and went right to sleep, while everyone is thinking, Mr.Tumnus, what a creep. But when she woke up he brought her back to the lampost, and said “you better go or we’ll both be toast”. Away to the wardrobe she flew like a flash, as Mr.Tumnus was thinking “I better hurry and dash”. But he heard Lucy exclaim as he ran out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
The Other Christmas Carol by Hermit of the Northern March
(this happens one year before P.C. I do not own any of the characters in Narnia or A Christmas Carol.)
Nikabrik Scrooge the dwarf sta in his cold office cave on Christmas Eve looking through the mail when a particular not caught his eye,
Nikabrik you will be visited by three ghouls.
Your Old Pal, Marley
Nikabrik knew it couldn’t be from Marley, Marley had died seven years ago, besides, the writing looked strange, almost stciklike. “What kind of hoax is this!?” Nikabrik yelle dand threw it in an extremely small fire as someone knocked at the door and Trufflehunter, the secretary, seeing that he was an old Narnian let him in. It was Reepicheep.
He walked over to Nikabrik who sat grumbling about the cold air the mouse had let in. “Hello, Mr. Scrroge, if it would please your honor to come to my house for Christmas dinner tomorrow.”
“Bah humbug, I couldn’t easily fit in your hole!”
“Then please,” said Trufflehunter, “Come to my den tomorrow, my sister Fern is baking a splendid stuffed goose and a wonderful plum pudding.”
“You can keep Christmas in your own way and I’ll keep it in mine.” Reepicheep left.
“But you don’t even keep it. It was when Aslan came to rescue us, how can you ignore that?”
“Humbug, I don’t believe in Aslan! What has he done for us!” Nikabrik yelled.
“What have you done for him?” Trufflehunter asked quietly.
Nikabrik looked at the clock. “It’s time to close up shop, you can leave now. I expect you to be here all the earlier tomorrow, though.”
“I will. Thank you, Mr. Scrooge.”
Trufflehunter left out the small, somewhat hidden front door of the business while Scrooge put all his papers in order. He was walking to the door and had opened it when a dryad came and spoke to him. This was during Miraz’s reign and Nikabrik had never seen a talking tree before. He was starled. He leaned agaist the wall and knocked over his oil lamp which had fortunately been put out and mumbled, “Muat have something to do with that prank letter, probably an illusion of some sort as likely as not.”
“Nikabrik, I am the dryad of Christmas past here to remind you of things you wish to forget.”
“Humbug, if this has something to do with that note I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“I didn’t know there was a note. Come, wwe must go.” In soite of Nikabrik’s protests she took him far into the forest away from hi home to Dancing Lawn. There, just as he remembered it was himself, looking much younger and dancing in circles with fauns, hares and many other creatures. Old Fuzzywig the bear had hosted the party every Christmas Eve.
“Fuzzywig was the best boss I ever had.” Nikabrik said to himself.
“But you left him because you could make a little more money and you left the girl to whom you wre engaged. Goodness knows you already had more than enough money.”
“Please don’t remind me of that.” He always pushed this out of the back of his mind. “What’s wrong with money?” He yelled but she had slipped away without him noticing.
“Merry Christmas!” It was a booming, happy voice and at first Nikabrik didn’t recognize who it was. It was Father Christmas who Nikabrik had secretly wished he could see when he was a little dwarf; he had pushed him out of his mind also for many years and hardly knew who he was. Father Christmas was standing with his sleigh behind him.
“Let me guess,” Nikabrik growled, “You are are here to give me my presents?”
“No, to show you the PRESENT. We had best be off if we are to arrive in time.” Nikabrik climbed into the sleigh complaining that reindeer are wid animals and cannot be trusted.
They came to the side of a hill surrounded by trees and looked inside the window. It was Trufflehunter’s cave all decorated with holly and he and his brother and sisters were gathered around a low wooden table filled with pies, rolls, a small plum pudding, and a giant roasted goose. They ate all of it but even though they didn’t show it you could tell that none of them were completely full. There was a little, thin, shabby badger cub who looked ill and Nikabrik guessed that it was Tiny Tim who Trufflehunter often mentioned.
“Will he die?” Nikabrik wondered.
“I do not know. The only one who can save him is Aslan.” Father Christmas answered.
“You believe in Aslan? I thought he was only a fairy tale!”
“Am I a fairy tale?”
“Oh!” Nikabrik was surprised. He had been cornered.
“It is creatures like these,” Father Christmas gestured to the badgers. “Those who delight in what Aslan has given them and complain not of want, who are the reasons I enjoy Christmas.”
“But I hardly pay Trufflehunter enough to live on. How is he happy?”
“He works to provide for his family. They are all that he has left after his parents were captured in a raid by Miraz. Though maybe,” he smiled, “You will pay him more in the future?”
“Perhaps.” Scrroge answered.
They went to another house. Thisfamily of squirrels rented a hole in a tree, owned, of course, by Nikabrik. All of them didn’t like most of the things about the house and constantly complained. “Why does the hole have to face the north? That Scrooge is a pest. I hate him. If we didn’t have to pay rent we might be able to afford a better place than this bump on the log! He keeps all his foreclosed possessions hidden away in his fancy house. Nikabrik was at first disgusted with them and considered forcing them to leave. Yet he started to see they were right even if they shouldn’t be acting like that. They DID have a one room hole with no door to keep out the cold, only a blanket hung in the doorway by twine. He noticed they were thin and starving. ‘I need to do something about this.’ He determined he would.
Father Christmas looked at the sky to see the position of the moon. “It is time for me to go. Someone else will tell you the rest.”
“Who is it?”
“You will see.” He drove off.
The Lion, Aslan was walking steadily toward Nikabrik. “Are you here to tell me the future?”
“I do not tell what will happen.”
“Please, why are you here? I want to know I will not always be an old codger!”
“What do you think you should do?”
“I know, I will give things away I don’t need and others do. I will tell them the old fairy tales are true! I will rejoice in the small things!”
“I will stop overcharging rent.” It sounded like a dirge, but he meant it.
“Your choice is wise. Go and do as you have said.” Aslan walked into the night as Nikabrik called.
“Thank you! I will. Could you please do something for Tiny Tim?”
Nikabrik ran and gave gold coins to the squirrels, ran back to his house and slept. In the morning when he woke he was tired but he felt better than he had for ages. He bought food for all his renters and personally delivered it himself. He raised Trufflehunter’s salary and gave him the day off from work. Tiny Tim did NOT die. He was completely well in the morning and no one knew what had occured though Nikabrik suspected. Tiny Tim said he hoped, “It might be pleasing to remeber, upon Christmas Day, who made lame beggars walk and blind men see.” Nikabrik wished a Merry Christmas to all and the old Narnian’s had to tell him to be quiet because the Telmarine’s might hear.
I want the thank Charles Dickens for the story, C.S. Lewis for the characters, and my mom for helping me. “God bless us, every one!” -Hermit of the Northern March
and the winner
How the Witch stole Christmas by Elftree
Down in Narnia
Liked Christmas a lot…
But the witch,
Who lived just North of Narnia,
The Witch hated Christmas!
The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that her crown wasn’t set on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that her gloves were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that her heart was a big frozen ball.
Whatever the reason,
Her heart or her crown,
She stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the town,
Staring down from her castle with a grim witchy frown
At the warm lighted hallows below in their glen.
For she knew every brute down in Narnia beneath
Was busy now, hanging a mistleoe wreath.
“And they’re hanging their stockings!” she snarled with a sneer.
“Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”
Then she growled, with her wand nervously drumming,
“I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!”
For, tomorrow, she knew…
…All the nymphs and the Fawns
Would wake up bright and early. They’d rush for their lawn!
And then! Oh, the Joys! Oh, the joy! joy! joy! joy!
That’s one thing she hated! Was joy! joy! joy! joy!
Then the Beasts, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they’d feast! And they’d feast!
And they’d FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!
They would start on plum-pudding, and rare non-talking-beast
Which was something the witch couldn’t stand in the least!
They’d do something she liked least of all!
Every Who down in Narnian, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Christmas Stars singing.
They’d stand paw-in-hand. And then they would start singing!
They’d sing! And they’d sing!
AND they’d SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more the witch thought of the Whole-Christmas-Sing
The more the witch thought, “I must stop this whole thing!
“Why for five hundred years I’ve put up with it now!
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!
Then she got an idea!
An awful idea!
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
“I know just what to do!” The Witch Laughed in her throat.
Ill freeze the whole world she said in a gloat.
I will cover this whole joyful world over with ice
I will make it so lovely but not very nice.
The Witch smiled her worst, her most grimest smile
I will make it always winter at least just for awhile
Ill force St. Nick out,
Yes thats what Ill do
I will make their dear santa leave with little ado.
And theyll weep and theyll cry
and Christmas will end, only I will know why.
Only one flaw in my plan
The witch thought with a frown
Only one flaw that can bring my plan down.
What if those humans show up in the midst
Of my cold winter wonderland thats Christmasless
Her frown got quite gruesome at this bitter thought
Then it turned to a smile that the mirror liked not
I will set about spies to find those darn humans
I will make sure my spies are worse then some guns
So she followed her plan
And Christmas was ended
Till one day a girl came in unattended
Her name was lucy and she was so nice
She instantly loved the land covered in ice.
She brought in her brothers
And her sister too
And in came a lion and what did they do
The took that old queen and they melted her down
Her icy-land was melted down to the groun
And Santa returned with his gifts for one and all
And Aslan was praise by the tall and the small
And the narnians sang, all the girls and the boys
They sang Joys, they sand joy! joy! joy! joy!
Don’t forget to check out the winners of the last contest.