Chicken Soup for the Soul Christmas by Jack Canfield Page A

like Cap’n Crunch or Cheerios.
    Lynsey, Laura, and I melted the butter and gooey marshmallows. Each took turns stirring, watching it gradually come to a soft boil. I mixed in green coloring and Cheerios, then we buttered our hands to shape the warm combination into a cone. The warmth in the kitchen and on our hands was soothing, and I easily forgot the chaos in my kitchen. “Let’s press these into the tree to look like garland,” I said, handing them red licorice strings. I could see a tremendous surge of self-esteem and new energy in my kids.We laughed together as we made a sweet treat for each teacher.
    â€œI want to shake on colored sugar,” Laura insisted, squeezing my arm with anticipation. “I can’t wait to give mine to Mrs. Smith.” Then she turned and gave me an impulsive hug, leaving buttery prints on my sleeve.
    Our bejeweled cone looked just like an ornate Christmas tree!
    Early Monday morning, we carefully placed each finished product on wax paper, then transferred it onto a sturdy foam plate. I drove to the school where Lynsey and Laura climbed out of the car with their treasures in hand.
    They skipped up to the front of the building and waited for me to park and join them.
    Inside, teachers and children passed us in the hallway, hungrily eyeing our detailed project. “Wow, that looks yummy,” one teacher remarked.
    â€œYeah, we’re giving this to Mrs. Smith,” Laura proudly announced.
    â€œI’ve got one for my teacher, too,” Lynsey added.
    I accompanied Laura into her classroom to “ahhs” from the children. “Look,” she yelled at her teacher. “Here’s a gift for you because I like you.”
    â€œOh my, Laura,” the teacher responded, bending down to Laura’s level and reaching out to take the plate. “What a nice surprise!”
    â€œI made it myself, just for you!”
    â€œWell, you can be proud.”
    â€œI am!”
    â€œYou know,” said Laura’s teacher, “cooking helps you understand more about math because you have to measure and know your fractions. Plus you get to spend special time with your mom and sister.”
    I thanked the teacher for her faithful commitment to my daughter and left the room to join Lynsey, who was anxiously pacing in the hallway. She and I walked into her class with a déjà vu of admiration. Lynsey’s tree looked like artwork. The edible glitter glistened like a frost-covered lawn.
    She had also cut out a paper star and carefully printed her teacher’s name in the middle. Then she had taped the paper star to a toothpick and inserted it on top of the tree.
    â€œLynsey, you created a unique masterpiece,” her teacher said.
    â€œThank you,” Lynsey, replied looking a little self-conscious.
    Then she turned over her appreciation gift to the teacher.
    Every year, we’ve tried to design unique and useful presents for the teachers who do so much for my kids throughout the year. Often, we work on a craft project, but cooking with my kids always wins hands down.
    Brenda Nixon

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THE SANTA
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    . . . T he stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. . . .
    Clement C. Moore, The Night Before Christmas

Reprinted by permission of Off the Mark and Mark Parisi. © 2007 Mark Parisi.

Memories of a Christmas Doll
    T he children were nestled all
snug in their beds, while visions of sugar
plums danced in their heads. . . .
    Clement C. Moore,
The Night Before Christmas
    The train rounded the bend a quarter-mile from the station with its headlight bright, even in the afternoon sunshine. I held onto my mother’s hand as I pointed with my left, on tiptoes in excitement and anticipation, knowing my grandmother was arriving from Manhattan, Kansas, to spend Christmas with us in St. Louis. I missed school that afternoon to meet the train, my first-grade skills sufficient to allow the