Christmas Carol

It’s that time of the year and our writers group gave me this title as a prompt. I guess the idea might have been for something traditional but I decided to be a little different.

When she became aware of the more profound matters of life and began to spend much of her time alone, under a Willow tree alongside a little stream, Carol became a deep thinker. The stream ran through the family estate; It was her favorite spot. So quiet and peaceful. The stream babbled happily across the rocks and pebbles. She could swear it was speaking to her.

One day, as Carol was throwing pebbles into the stream, she heard her name called, “Carol, Carol, oh, I wish my name was Carol.” she stood up and looked around. It was a sweet, soft voice. She looked up and down the stream’s banks, searching for the person who spoke. She called out, “Hello, hello, who is it? Who are you? Is there anyone there?” There was no one – but Carol knew she had heard a voice. “Carol, Carol. Oh, I wish my name was Carol.” Once again, she looked around her. “Oh, why don’t I have a pretty name instead of ‘The Stream’? Boo Hoo, Boo Hoo. I’m so sad.” Suddenly, Carol realized it was the stream speaking. “Are you talking to me? “

“Of course. Your name is Carol, isn’t it?”

“Yes. How do you know my name?”

“Long ago, when you were still in your mummy’s tummy, she and your daddy used to picnic where you are sitting now. I heard them saying they would have a baby soon. And they were going to name her Carol. After you were born, your mum and daddy continued with their picnics, bringing you along. They loved you deeply, played with you, and used your pretty name often.”

“Did you speak to them as well?”

 “Oh no, I only speak to children because they believe. Grown-ups don’t. I knew that one day you would come to visit. So here we are talking.”

“I must leave now, or I shall be late for tea. I’ll visit you after school when I finish my homework.”

“Don’t forget now. If you do, I shall cry a river of tears.”

As Carol walked home, she thought about the stream’s words about her pretty name, Carol. She thought about how beautiful her name sounded when her mother called. She loved the sound of her name when her friends called her. Yes, Carol was delighted with her name.

Monday morning, satchel in hand, Carol made her way to school. She loved her school and all her friends. Today, the first lesson was her favorite – music. However, she felt a little anxious. A new teacher was starting. Miss Jones had left to have her baby. She would miss her as she was an excellent teacher.

The new teacher was Mrs. Smythe.

“Hello, class, I’m Mrs. Smythe, your temporary teacher.

To begin with, I want you to stand in turn and tell me your name so I can get to know you all. “

When it was Carol’s turn, she stood proudly, saying, “My name is Carol.”

Unexpectedly, Mrs. Smyth burst into song:

“Christmas Carol, Christmas Carol, do you see?

Do you see Santa’s presents on the tree?

Christmas Carol, Christmas Carol…”

The class roared with laughter. Carol was mortified and turned a dark shade of red, then burst into tears! She sobbed uncontrollably, took hold of her satchel, and ran out the door.

“Carol, my Darling. What’s the matter? Why have you come home early?” Her mother was shocked. Nothing like this had happened before. She hugged her daughter.’ “Tell mummy what’s made you so upset.”

Carol explained to her mother what had happened between her sobbing and gushing tears.

“Come, my Darling, lay down while mummy brings you some warm milk and a cookie to make you feel better. “

Carol took a bite of the cookie and drank her milk.

“I’m sure your teacher meant no harm, Carol. Musicians often see fun in things that most don’t think about.”

“But Mummy, the whole class laughed; I felt silly.”

“They were probably laughing at the teacher more than you.”

“Now they will call me ‘Christmas Carol’ instead of using my special name that I love – Carol.”

“Just correct them if they call you Christmas Carol; you will find, after a while, they will stop calling you by that name.”

“Mummy, I don’t want to lay down. May I go and sit under the willow tree by the stream? Please.”

“Of course, my precious child, if that will make you feel better.”

Carol walked down to the stream. “Hello, hello.”

“Yes?”

“Is that you Dream Stream?”

“I’m The stream!”

“No, you’re not, you’re my Dream Stream.” There was silence.

“Yes – Dream Stream, I love that name. Please sit down, let’s have tea.”

“Do you drink Tea?”

“Of course I do, Carol. Your Mummy and Daddy always shared their tea with me.”

“Oh”

“What’s wrong, Carol? You look so sad?”

Then, the tears streamed down Carol’s cheeks, and she blurted out her story, sobbing as she spoke. “I hate Mrs. Smythe; I hate my class, my friends.”

It’s times like these when I wish I had arms. Dream Stream thought to herself.

“They are all so cruel; I hope something bad would happen to all of them!”

“You don’t mean that, Carol. Anyway, I have a much better solution for you.”

“What?”

“Did you know there is a song contest at your school a month before Christmas?”

“So?”

“Well, you will sing in that contest and win. Not only that but after, you will witness a miracle.”

“What! I am too scared to sing in front of all those people, and besides, what will I sing?”

“You and I will compose a special song, and you shall practice singing it every day with me before the big night.”

The big night arrived, and when it was Carol’s turn to sing, she stood trembling in front of the mic. The music began; she heard a voice: give it all you got, girl! With a voice she could not believe was hers, she sang these words:

There was a girl, a sad and lonely girl

She had lost her name, a beautiful name

She thought it a shame because she loved it so

Her friends took her name that she loved, oh

And gave her another they called Christmas Carol

She cried a river of tears. She did

Because the name she loved was Carol, you see

But then a friend, a very dear friend, said it was a gift

A gift to have a name, Christmas Carol

As the wise men were the first to sing it

Sang it they did to a babe, a babe in a manger

The babe smiled and brought happiness to many ever after.

Carol received a standing ovation that night and won the competition. She was so proud; Mummy and Daddy were in the front row, hands raised, clapping wildly. She wished her Dream Stream could have been there when, without warning, she heard a voice – I’m right here beside you, girl, you’re a champ.

Wait – there’s more!

The following day was the last day at school, and Mrs. Smythe stood before the class. “Class, I have something significant to say. Firstly, I want to congratulate you, Carol, on your fine win in the competition; secondly, I want to say something more important. Your Mum and Dad came to see me the day after I had sung my song to you. I had never realized how I humiliated you; that was wrong. I apologize and hope you will forgive me. Your parents asked me to say nothing of this to you or the class because they wanted to see how you would deal with your experience.

Lastly, I want to ask you all, from now on, to call Carol by the name she loves and maybe at Christmas time call her ‘Christmas Carol’ in memory of a young lady who had been humiliated, never held it against her teacher and classmates, but went on to overcome her grief and climb to success.”

Copyright©peterJamespienaar