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Faith, fiction and cancer stuff.

A different Christmas

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“Dinner everyone!” Shouted Mum.

The family rushed to the table. It looked delicious – turkey, roast potatoes, loads of veg, gravy, Yorkshire puds. A small fir tree in a cheerful red bucket  and topped by a gold star served as the centrepiece.

“This looks fab!” Smiled Dad as he carved the turkey.

“I helped with the potatoes.” Piped up Daisy as she filled her plate with veg.

“I set the table.” Announced Thomas, pouring himself some fizzy drink.

“Thank you Lord for this meal and our family.” Prayed Grandma.

The Christmas tree in the corner of the room twinkled with fairy lights, and was surrounded by beautifully wrapped gifts.

“When do we get to open our presents?” Asked Thomas, eyeing up a schooter- shaped one.

“I told you already,” Laughed Mum, “After dinner and the Queen’s speech.”

“Ok.” Sighed Thomas.

“These potatoes are excellent,” said Dad, “They taste almost like the ones I used to have when I was a kid.”

“Thanks,” replied Mum, “The food techies are getting better and better at the flavours, don’t you think? You’d almost think that this turkey once ran around in a farmyard.”

Dad laughed.

“Mum, did people really used to eat food that grew from the ground?” Asked Daisy.

“Yes. Well, things like fruit and veg did. Some of them from trees, too.”

“Trees used to grow actual food?” Wondered Thomas.

“Oh yes,” said Grandma, “I used to grow apples (from trees) and potatoes (under the soil) in my back garden.”

“Wow.” Both kids were silent for a moment as they processed this.

“But this ain’t bad.” Smiled Dad as he munched on a parsnip. “The butter could almost have come from a cow.”

“Those were the days, eh?” Reminisced Mum.

After dinner, the family sat in front of the telly wall to watch the Queen’s speech. She almost looked human, in the right light. The eyes gave her away though – you could always spot the cyborgs from the glint in their eyes.

Thomas peered out the window at the sky full of stars. One day, they would hopefully find a planet of their own again, like his parents used to have.

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Author: Alex

I am a teacher and love reading and writing. I write short stories, poetry, blogs and children's stories. I was diagnosed with breast cancer in April 2015.

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