Christian Fiction ideas/story/dramas by Members of the Forum

why don't you just put it up here, Frederick. you don't need anyone's permission or expressed interest. this is your home. so feel free!

Originally Posted by Frederick

Now this is something that REALLY interests me! Several years ago I wrote a Christmas story and sent it off the following June/July to women's magazines like My Weekly, Woman's Realm etc. for consideration for their Christmas edition, but to no avail. The problem with writing a Christmas story is not everybody who reads women's magazines are Christians! I would dearly love to see it used not for vanity reasons for seeing my name in print, but at a risk of sounding big headed, I feel it could be inspirational in some small way, regarding the Christian message. It runs into about 1500 words which is about the average length of a short story - about a fifteen minute read. I know it is some way to go before Christmas, but IF, and I mean IF anybody is interested, I can put it up tomorrow. It's a Christmas story that is best read quietly and alone. It is designed to tug at the heart strings - and it does. I wrote it as a testimonial of my faith. For the record, excellent and promising start to a great story! How long do you envisage it will be? Just a tip - join a creative writing class. You'll pick an enormous amount of encouragement and advice - keep at it. Remember: all gifts come from the Holy Spirit.

I'd love to read your story Frederik. Post it on a seperate thread, and post a link to it here... then we can talk about it on a seperate thread, and as Nash suggested use this as a contents page.

As to how long this story will be... I don't know. I've had two novels published in the past, one for teenagers, one for adults, and they sold well to their target audience. But I've not yet completed a Christian book... I'm having real trouble concentrating. I've got some very promising things on the go, but I can't seem to think straight at the moment when I'm working on them.

This one could be a short story, or it could be a novella aimed at teenagers. I'll have to finish my Moses book before I start on anything else!

[Frederick]

Originally Posted by Christa

why don't you just put it up here, Frederick. you don't need anyone's permission or expressed interest. this is your home. so feel free!

Awe, my home - I like that OK here we go:


I BELIEVE IN SANTA

The Mace's were a hardworking family who lived on the ground floor of a block of flats in Islington, North London. They had two childred, Susan, who was fifteen, and Simon, aged seven. Few luxuries could be found in their sparsely furnished accommodation, and most of the carpets were threadbare. Their most prized possession was an old Ford Escort which took up much of Arthur's time in an effort to keep it running. He couldn't really afford a car but by cutting out smoking and drinking, he somehow managed to raise enough money for tax and insurance. Their one treat was a weekly drive into the Essex countryside, and to have a picnic on the side of the road, watching the farmers going about their work. Occasionally they'd vary the routine by driving to a local stable and feeding the horses. They were well known, and regular commercial drivers would sometimes toot their horns as they passed. As a surprise birthday treat, which had been arranged without his knowledge, Simon was once actually driver round the field on wone of the tractors. Everybody loved these trips out, especially Simon.
Poor Simon. Fate had dealt a bitter blow to the Mace familywhen Simon, four at the time had slipped out unnoticed, and had wandered into the busy street while his mother was paying the milkman. The screech of brakes didn't unduly alarm her as it was a noisy neighbourhood anyway. Suddenly as the crowd gathered, she realised. Her legs almost gave way as she ran, screaming hysterically, to his side. She kept screaming his name over and over in an effort to get some reaction - but there was none. Shock, terror, blind panic all merged into one as people came running from all directions. The ambulance arrived within minutes. After several hours, a doctor led Arthur, Mary and Susan into a private room. There, in a controlled voice, he informed them that Simon had no feelings from his waist down. All wept bitterly as the reality of the situation began to take effect. The dreadful news affected the whole estate. Everybody did all they could to ease the situation, and nothing was too much bother if any of them wanted anything. They vowed then that their every effort would be taken up in keeping Simon happy, but that in no way would they spoil him. At first Simon couldn't understand why he couldn't walk, and he'd have screaming sessions, throwing tantrums. These sessions would put the rest of the household under an intolerable strain, where they themselves wouldn't speak to one another for hours, sometimes even days. The strain was getting everybody down. Their attitudes to his disability varied. Mary, a devout Christian saw it as a challenge, set by God. She would throw herself into charity work at the local church, which doubled as the community centre. Susan, once surrounded by her friends and boyfriends galore, no longer went out except to keep her mother company and to attend the occasional church service. She spent most of her time at home, doing more than her fair share of household chores and cooking and washing up, while at the same time playing endless board games with Simon in an effort to keep his mind occupied. Arthur remained bitter, blaming God for everything.
Gradually though, they came to terms with the situation and tried to make the best of things under the circumstances. Simon attended a special school nearby. He soon adapted to his new environment and was amongst the brightest in his group. Mary was fortunate in getting a job serving meals in the school, so she was able to keep an eye on things. Nobody made any undue fuss of him though, and if he was cheeky or did wrong, he was admonished accordingly.
It was ten day to go before yet another Christmas was upon them, and with it all the hustle and bustle. Although a confirmed atheist, Arthur nevertheless enjoyed the festive season. It was such a special time of the year, where greetings cards instead of bills seemed to come through the door. A turkey was out of the question, of course, but they enjoyed themselves just as much with a chicken and a couple of cheap bottles of wine.
In his tidiest spider-like scrawl, Simon wrote down all the things that he would like Santa to get him.. He then addressed it to Mr. Santa Claus, Toy Town, North Pole.
"Daddy," Asked a high-pitched excited voice, "Do you think Santa will get me all the things I've asked for?"
"Well," replied Arthur in mock severity, "That depends. Have hou been saying your prayers every night, and have you been a good boy at school? Because there's a little Dicky bird that sits on a branch and tells Santa every time you're naughty, and Santa doesn't like naughty boys, does he?" He then gave his son a reassuring kiss, and wheeled him along to the post box so that he could pop it in.


Part two tomorrow night.

[Frederick]

Originally Posted by Frederick

Awe, my home - I like that OK here we go:


I BELIEVE IN SANTA

The Mace's were a hardworking family who lived on the ground floor of a block of flats in Islington, North London. They had two childred, Susan, who was fifteen, and Simon, aged seven. Few luxuries could be found in their sparsely furnished accommodation, and most of the carpets were threadbare. Their most prized possession was an old Ford Escort which took up much of Arthur's time in an effort to keep it running. He couldn't really afford a car but by cutting out smoking and drinking, he somehow managed to raise enough money for tax and insurance. Their one treat was a weekly drive into the Essex countryside, and to have a picnic on the side of the road, watching the farmers going about their work. Occasionally they'd vary the routine by driving to a local stable and feeding the horses. They were well known, and regular commercial drivers would sometimes toot their horns as they passed. As a surprise birthday treat, which had been arranged without his knowledge, Simon was once actually driver round the field on wone of the tractors. Everybody loved these trips out, especially Simon.
Poor Simon. Fate had dealt a bitter blow to the Mace familywhen Simon, four at the time had slipped out unnoticed, and had wandered into the busy street while his mother was paying the milkman. The screech of brakes didn't unduly alarm her as it was a noisy neighbourhood anyway. Suddenly as the crowd gathered, she realised. Her legs almost gave way as she ran, screaming hysterically, to his side. She kept screaming his name over and over in an effort to get some reaction - but there was none. Shock, terror, blind panic all merged into one as people came running from all directions. The ambulance arrived within minutes. After several hours, a doctor led Arthur, Mary and Susan into a private room. There, in a controlled voice, he informed them that Simon had no feelings from his waist down. All wept bitterly as the reality of the situation began to take effect. The dreadful news affected the whole estate. Everybody did all they could to ease the situation, and nothing was too much bother if any of them wanted anything. They vowed then that their every effort would be taken up in keeping Simon happy, but that in no way would they spoil him. At first Simon couldn't understand why he couldn't walk, and he'd have screaming sessions, throwing tantrums. These sessions would put the rest of the household under an intolerable strain, where they themselves wouldn't speak to one another for hours, sometimes even days. The strain was getting everybody down. Their attitudes to his disability varied. Mary, a devout Christian saw it as a challenge, set by God. She would throw herself into charity work at the local church, which doubled as the community centre. Susan, once surrounded by her friends and boyfriends galore, no longer went out except to keep her mother company and to attend the occasional church service. She spent most of her time at home, doing more than her fair share of household chores and cooking and washing up, while at the same time playing endless board games with Simon in an effort to keep his mind occupied. Arthur remained bitter, blaming God for everything.
Gradually though, they came to terms with the situation and tried to make the best of things under the circumstances. Simon attended a special school nearby. He soon adapted to his new environment and was amongst the brightest in his group. Mary was fortunate in getting a job serving meals in the school, so she was able to keep an eye on things. Nobody made any undue fuss of him though, and if he was cheeky or did wrong, he was admonished accordingly.
It was ten day to go before yet another Christmas was upon them, and with it all the hustle and bustle. Although a confirmed atheist, Arthur nevertheless enjoyed the festive season. It was such a special time of the year, where greetings cards instead of bills seemed to come through the door. A turkey was out of the question, of course, but they enjoyed themselves just as much with a chicken and a couple of cheap bottles of wine.
In his tidiest spider-like scrawl, Simon wrote down all the things that he would like Santa to get him.. He then addressed it to Mr. Santa Claus, Toy Town, North Pole.
"Daddy," Asked a high-pitched excited voice, "Do you think Santa will get me all the things I've asked for?"
"Well," replied Arthur in mock severity, "That depends. Have hou been saying your prayers every night, and have you been a good boy at school? Because there's a little Dicky bird that sits on a branch and tells Santa every time you're naughty, and Santa doesn't like naughty boys, does he?" He then gave his son a reassuring kiss, and wheeled him along to the post box so that he could pop it in.


Part two tomorrow night.

I BELIEVE IN SANTA - conclusion (part two)

Simon stretched up and just managed to reach the opening.
"Do you think Santa will get it in time?"
"I'm sure he will!" Laughed Arthur. "Now, that's enough excitement for one evening. We don't want you catching a chill. It's nearly your bed time, and Mummy's made you a hot water bottle, so the bed'll be nice and warm when you get in." He then patted the letterbox for luck. Arthur smiled to himself.
"Dear God," he said under his breath. "if only there was a Santa."

The following morning Susan picked up what she assumed to be just another Christmas Card. She opened it and stood open-mouthed at the contents.
"Who's it from - what does it say?" Asked Mary, casually. Her eyes lit up as she threw her arms round Arthur giving him a kiss.
"Oh, thank you, Dad - you're the best Dad in the whole world! I can't wait!"
"Who's it from?" Asked Mary, a second time, laughing at Susan's affection.
"Ask Santa." She replied, still hugging her father. She held up the card, and read the words: "To Arthur, Mary and family. God bless you this Christmas - love from Santa" Attached to the inside were four front row tickets to see Cinderella-on-ice at Wembley arena on the 23rd. just before Christmas. Arthur released Susan's grip, and shook his head. "No." He said. The look on his face told Susan he wasn't playing about. He kept looking at the unfamiliar handwriting. Even more baffling was the South London postmark, as they didn't know anybody from South London. In the end Simon grabbed it.
"Daddy, look! It's from Santa!" He shreiked. "Love from Santa. It's from Santa! Daddy, you do believe in Santa, don't you?" Arthur gasped in mock horror.
"Goodness me, what a question! Of course I believe in Santa!" He replied. Susan Laughed. Nobody could think or talk of anything else for the next week, and all wondered what was in store for them as none of them had been to an Ice show in their lives.
The twenty-third finally arrived. It was to be an evening none of them would forget. Indeed, it was to be an evening that would change all of their lives forever.
After losing the way a couple of times, they arrived about twenty minutes before the start of the show. All sat enthralled by the ice spectacular. During the intermission there was a clown act that made everybody, young and old alike, laugh and shout.
Finally with the show over, Arthur felt a surge of patriotism as he and Mary raised Simon to a standing position as the National Anthem was played just before everybody made their way out. They waited until most of the people had gone before making their way up to the exit. Then disaster struck. Arthur slipped as he stood on an empty can of Coke. He cried out in anguish as Simon slipped from his and Mary's grasp, and went rolling back down the steps to the front row. The first-aid attendants did what little they could before the ambulance arrived.
"Oh God, please no! Don't let my baby die!" Was all Mary screamed over and over again. She was hysterical. Susan too, was crying, but more out of fear and sympathy for her mother for, like Arthur, she was deeply traumatised. Worst affected was Arthur who blamed himself entirely for not seeing the can of Coke until it was too late. He sat there, hour after hour, staring up at a blank ceiling in the hospital, his mind tortured by the events of the evening. "Why Simon, why not me? What's my boy done to deserve this?"
Susan gripped Simon's hand, too frightened to close her eyes as she prayed silently for a miracle. She stared intensely into his waxen face, willing him with all her strength for him to open his eyes. There was great excitement all round when he did open them for a few moments, but it was only for a few seconds, and even then, he showed no signs of recognising anybody.
Christmas came and went. The chicken went uncooked. Presents remained unopened. A round-the-clock vigil was kept at his bedside, with members of the family taking it in turns to be with him.
Then suddenly, early one morning, simon opened his eyes wide and sat bolt upright in bed.
"Where's my Mummy - I want my Mummy!" He demanded in a most boorish manner. Mary was there in an instant, as were they all. She threw her arms round Simon, and wept for joy.
"Simon, darling. You've come back." He looked intently into her face, smiled, and then kissed her.
"Mummy, please don't cry. The doctor told me I was going to be alright, and that I'd grow up big and strong." Blinded by tears, Mary could only nod.
"Doctor, what doctor?" Asked Arthur, totally confused. He glanced across at one of the medics in h white coat. He shrugged his shoulders.
"Not that doctor - the other doctor. The one with the long hair and straggly beard." interjected Simon.
"Ah, that doctor!" He replied. A second doctor winked at him. "Dream." He mouthed.
"Well dream or no dream, you've come back to us, and that's all that matters. That in itself is a dream come true!" Laughed Mary, giving him a hug.
"Mummy, I wasn't dreaming!" His outburst shocked everybody. "He sat talking to me, and told me all different Bible stories. And... er, oh yes! And then he told me he wa going to put me into a big machine that would make me big and strong, and... and then he told me to give me a kiss because it was his birthday. It was a big, horrible machine, Mummy. I'm afraid I cried, because he said you couldn't come with me. Oh yes, and then he put his hands over my eyes. Oh Mummy, why couldn't you be there?"
"Because I was here waiting for you, and that's all I care about. We'll have you home in a few days..."
"Mummy, it wasn't a dream! Why won't anybody listen to me - look!" Screaming in rage, he pulled back the covers and staggered about ten feet before bursting into tears and collapsing on the floor. The highly emotional scene that followed brought people in from all over the hospital.
It was to be the start of severl more weeks in hoospital as endless tests and a reverse colostomy were carried out. He had to learn to walk all over again, gradually strengthening weak ligaments and muscles. Progress was painfully slow, but progress it most certainly was.
As they passed a church on the way back from visiting him one day, Mary said she wanted to go inside.
"Sure, no problem. I'll see you both back at the flat."
"Please, Dad. Just this once." Pleaded Susan. Arthur bit his lower lip, shaking his head.
"I'm sorry, Sue. It's no good. It just isn't me. I haven't been inside a church since I was Christened as a baby. I wouldn't have a clue what to say."
"Pleeease, Dad." She started pulling on his arm. "It'll come." More out of embarrassment at having people staring at her pulling him, he relented.
Once inside the church, no words were necessary. He looked up at a wooden cross by the altar and, cupping his hands in his face as he sank to the floor in one of the pews, he wept like he had never done before.

" where two or more are gathered together in my name, I am there in the midst of them." Matthew 18 v 20
AMEN