The Lonely Christmas That Sparked My Children’s Novel
🎄How my heart warming Christmas adventure was born
I’m Kate, a psychotherapist writing about mental health and self-discovery, for you to flourish in a life you love. When we cultivate self-compassion, resilience and understanding, we also create a more harmonious world. Upgrade here for transformative journaling prompts, empowering tools, workbooks, guided meditations, and if you would like to support my work. Thanks for being here!
“Colourful lights filled the sky, their promise of hope twinkling in Nell’s eyes. Soon they would shine even brighter.” The opening lines of The Wish That Saved Christmas, my children’s novel! Read or listen to Chapter 1 at the end of this post, or buy here.
Dear friends,
The light and shade of life comes into sharp relief at Christmas time. One of my strangest Christmases was spent alone, during the pandemic in 2020, when we had been asked not to travel. I had to fight to spend a couple of hours with my daughter on Christmas eve and first thing, before she spent the day with her Dad, his partner and her son. They had each other, and were meeting my ex-in laws for a local walk; my family live 2 hours away, so this was my only ‘family time’.
That brief Christmas morning with my daughter warmed my heart like sipping brandy by the fireside. I savoured each moment as she tore through her stocking, the long stretch of an empty Christmas Day looming. I insisted she thanked Santa for each little parcel, not me, despite being a teenager now. She rolled her eyes each time, like every year.
Pepper was four months old, and nothing says Christmas like a warm, lively, squashy puppy. After a zoom call with my family in Bristol, and saying goodbye to my girl, I set off with bouncing pepper into the crisp air, greeted by other red-cheeked dog walkers and their dogs, in Christmas jumpers or varying degrees of taste and ridiculousness.
Christmas Dinner for One
I cooked Christmas dinner for one, with all the trappings (what else was there to do?), while Pepper snoozed under a blanket. I savoured my own warm acts of self compassion as I chopped, mixed and basted. I had previously frozen a small turkey when the incompetence of the Boris Johnson ‘government’ continued to unfold, while we watched, wide eyed in disbelief.
I flipped blinis in the pan, which I ate with smoked salmon and crème freche while sipping a glass of fizz. My brother sent posh wine I savoured, as I munched my way through my roast turkey, stuffing and Brussels sprouts, lingering on every flavour. I admired my Christmas Tree, dripping with thirty years worth of pretty baubles added to my collection each year.
I stuffed in homemade mince pies with slightly burned, treacly edges, thanking past me for the effort, while I watched film after film under a blanket. Pepper agreed with my suggestions of Rebecca, The Holiday the Nutcracker ballet, and Strictly. I was queen of the sofa, with occasional duties to play ‘tug’ and avoid sharp tiny teeth looking for a game, or accompany my Christmas partner for regular garden patrols.
Caring for Vulnerability
With all my efforts, sadness still nipped around my heart, my solitude another reminder of what I’d lost in my life, over and over. Of not having the throngs of bustling loved ones around me like in the adverts, or in long gone years before my heart broke. The vast emptiness of my loneliness underpinned the day. That feeling always there, despite joy and comfort too, in varying sizes, for anyone who has experienced deep loss.
Honouring the day and the childlike part of me that comes most alive at Christmas, meant embracing my whole self. My wide-eyed inner child had little support on this day, and those extra treats, trappings and puppy snuggles were a good band aid, as my adult self held her tight.
And my psyche was cooking something too.
My Dream
That night, a dream from my child-self emerged like a wisp of smoke. A giant Christmas tree surrounded by forlorn people, and one tiny heroine darting about all over it. This was the first glimmer of the novel I wrote for lonely but brave little girls like me.
To give it shape, I signed up for a writing course with The Novelry during betwixtmas. A long held secret dream, to learn the craft of writing and commit to a whole book. A gift for little Kate, always hiding under the Russian doll layers of my older, wiser selves.
A gift for all the girls and children who must find courage to save themselves. And to save the world.
Back Cover Blurb for The Wish That Saved Christmas:
When hope in a troubled town fades, tiny figurine Nell secretly comes to life to save her beloved human, Emma.
Emma's father is in hospital with the mysterious illness that swept through town, her mother lost her job and their greedy landlord is making them leave home.
The mayor invites everyone to bring a decoration for the town's giant Christmas tree as symbols of hope. Desperate Emma makes a wish on the tree’s angel, and her tiny figurine Nell comes to life.
Nell journeys through the sparkling Christmas tree to visit the angel. She discovers she is one of a secret magical community of living treasures who help humankind. When the fate of their hopeless town falls to her, can she save Emma and the town in time for Christmas?
After two years of writing, editing, with help from talented editors, it was approved to go out, and The Novelry submitted to agents on my behalf. After a nail biting time, it didn’t get picked up, Christmas novels are an impossible sell when you are a new author competing with every famous comedian under the sun. Not to mention JK Rowling.
I was told to write ‘a few more novels first’ which wasn’t something I could commit too, though more ideas swirled. I had great feedback for my writing, which encouraged me to self publish on Amazon. I created my own cover and a drawing for every chapter. I recorded the audiobook you can buy on audible. My sense of time is poor, and it all took forever, but I did it!
When you search for Christmas children’s books on Amazon, The Wish That Saved Christmas comes up at around 2500th. 😆 So if you or your children read it, do please leave some feedback if you enjoy it, to bump me up to, say 2000th! It’s tough out there!
You can read or listen to the first chapter below this post, or:
This got me thinking about the child like parts of us we often try to push away. I’ll share some exercises/therapeutic journaling for paid subscribers soon, to explore and hold this beautiful though vulnerable aspect of yourself, for deeper insight, self-compassion and integration.
If you enjoyed reading this post, please do like, comment and share it! It helps to support me in my work here and is much appreciated. And let me know if you read the chapter or my book, and what you think!
With love and gratitude,
Kate (big and little)
How do you take care of yourself when you feel vulnerable around the festive season?
(Read on or listen here for Chapter 1 of The Wish That Saved Christmas):
The Wish That Saved Christmas
CHAPTER 1 - NELL’S AWAKENING
Colourful lights filled the sky, their promise of hope twinkling in Nell’s eyes. Soon they would shine even brighter. Her head poked out of the breast pocket of Emma’s red woolly coat as she stomped along the frosty pavement with her mother. Nell didn’t mind being jostled; she knew it was only because Emma was so upset. Nell herself couldn’t move at all, of course not. What would you expect from a tiny painted figurine usually kept on a shelf?
‘They say it’s beautiful,’ said Emma’s mother looking up at the colour speckled clouds. ‘It’s a lovely idea from the mayor, isn’t it, for everyone to bring a decoration for the giant Christmas tree in the square? A good way to keep our spirits up until they cure the horrible illness. I am so proud of this town!’
‘Dad can’t see it, though, can he?’ Emma frowned as she kicked a stone along the path. She missed her father, who was in the hospital, unable to move or speak. He had caught the strange new sickness with hundreds of others, leaving their families and the whole town in chaos. ‘And anyway, we are leaving Hope’s End before Christmas, so it doesn’t even count.’ Emma huffed and shook her head. ‘There had better be an angel on that tree.’
Nell thought of Emma before everything changed, telling terrible jokes, and laughing, baking cookies, and reading books, and climbing trees with her friends. Now she was sad and moody most of the time. Seeing her like this was unbearable. Nell sent Emma wisps of comforting thoughts. Perhaps seeing the gigantic Christmas tree would cheer her up.
‘There might be an angel. Or a star perhaps,’ said her mother. ‘Everyone is bringing something special. Our star garland will look lovely up there, won’t it? And I don’t mind having to leave it behind when we go. It’s a gift to the town.’ She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Almost there.’
They walked down Church Street, past the boarded-up shops and piles of uncollected rubbish bags to Riverside Square. Their cheeks stung in the chill of the wind; their breath danced in front of them. Of course, Nell’s tiny body could not feel the cold. Emma stopped grumbling only as they turned through the gap in the yew hedge. They stopped in their tracks.
Emma gaped up at the largest and most beautiful Christmas tree she had ever seen. Nell wobbled in the pocket as Emma’s heart thumped. They stood, dazzled by the glitter and shimmer of the gigantic pine tree that towered as high as the church spire behind. Its vast sweeping branches groaned with the festive belongings of the people of Hope’s End. Thousands of glittering decorations twisted in the wind. Lights in every colour of the universe. Baubles and garlands, curiosities, and treasures. A tree filled with last-chance hope.
People crowded in the square for the first time all year: sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, children, grandparents, daughters, and sons. Tables, ladders, and whirring cranes filled the space, with people bustling around them. Collection boxes for food, gifts, and other donations lined the riverside railings. Dozens of eyes cast upwards, glinting in the lights at the glorious tree, hopeful offerings clutched in hands. Last attempts to end the terrible illness that caused so much suffering. The scent of pine and cinnamon curled around them. The mayor, a stout woman with spiky hair and a red dress, stood on a box ready to make a speech. She wore an enormous colourful jewelled collar, which glinted in the lights of the tree. Nell thought she looked like a human Christmas decoration, though she didn’t like to judge. Emma rolled her eyes as the mayor put her glasses on, pulled out a piece of paper and began.
‘In these dark days, as this terrible year draws to a close, we, the people of Hope’s End, can only hope for a brighter future. This crisis has stretched our town to its limits. What holds us together is our unity, our love, hope, and community–’
One of Emma’s friends on the opposite side of the square admired the tree with her dad. He was holding her close to him with her mother on the other side. A fire of jealousy streaked through Emma, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Nell knew exactly how she was feeling and wished she could bring Emma’s father home, to give Emma’s mother back her job. To make everything right again. The tear splashed from Emma’s eye onto Nell’s head. Nell sent soothing thoughts to Emma, hoping she would feel less alone. She felt her relax a little, her breath steady. The mayor continued.
‘On this mid-winter day, we transform our famous great pine tree in Riverside Square into an enormous Christmas tree, filled with our favourite treasures, decorations, curiosities, and symbols of hope. I have lent my cherished angel for the treetop. Isn’t she beautiful? I always thought she might be real, ha ha!’ She smiled and shook her head.
‘Hope so!’ shouted a man.
‘We need it!’ said another. The mayor adjusted her glasses.
‘Our Christmas tree creation will stir hearts and souls and inspire us to find a way, together, through these troublesome times. When this is over, our town will be restored to its former glory. Our favourite shops will re-open, our award-winning school will have teachers again, and our people will be healthy and happy. We will thrive once more if we all pull together and resolve this mystery sickness.’
‘Isn’t it fabulous!’ said Emma’s mother. ‘All the lovely people of this wonderful town coming together, even in hard times!’ She waved across the square to some other parents.
‘All the lovely people we will never see again because we have to move,’ said Emma. Her mother’s shoulders dropped at little. She had dark circles under her eyes.
‘I am sorry darling, it’s just the way it is.’
Emma placed her hand to her chest, against the breast pocket where Nell stood. Ahead, a woman stood on a crane holding a magnificent angel aloft. Emma’s eyes lit up. If you looked closely, so did Nell’s. The people cheered as the woman rose on the crane and attached the angel to the treetop. Gold and glinting against the lights, the angel towered over them all. Her elegant, pointed wings seemed to pierce the swirling green tinged clouds above. She swayed in the breeze, back and forth, back, and forth. A group of crows swooped low across the square, cawing. Some people drew their small children close.
A woman with heavy eyelashes holding something blue and glittery in her hand swiped them away.
‘Hey!’ she yelled, ‘someone bring some bird killer!’
‘That’s cruel,’ said Emma. The mayor continued.
‘Our hearts go out to those in hospital, those who have lost their jobs and homes. Please make donations for those in need in the boxes – your spare food, clothes, money, and toys are appreciated. And please take what you need. We will gather here on Christmas morning to give out donated gifts and to reflect. By supporting each other, we will beat this menace! Merry Christmas!’
Emma handed the star garland they had brought from home to a man with a pile of Christmas decorations in his arms. He took it and smiled.
‘Thanks, love, enough stars in your home already, are there?’ He nudged her arm. ‘That’s a pretty one!’ He climbed up a very tall ladder that leant against the tree and added it with the new decorations to the masterpiece. Nell’s eyes twinkled.
*
Nell usually stood on the shelf by Emma’s bed with her other treasures. She was a gift from Emma’s great-grandmother when she was younger. ‘Keep her close, dear,’ Emma’s great-grandmother had said, with a wink. Emma had done exactly that. Nell stood next to a photo of her father, who was grinning at a tomato for some reason; half a fossil she had found on a beach and a grubby duck teddy she adored when she was a baby. Nell stood in the middle, with her two long plaits and her red jumper, with little blue forget-me-not flowers painted on the front.
When Emma’s father went to the hospital earlier in the year, Emma took Nell from the shelf and carried her with her in her pocket. Since her mother lost her job, she sneaked her to school inside her rucksack every day. When she heard that they might have to move to the next town, Pewksbury, she slept with her under her pillow at night. Of course, Emma did not know that Nell could think and feel. How could she? Nell never moved or spoke, just like any ordinary figurine. But she was right there by her side, alright. Especially in dark times like these. No. Questions. Asked.
‘Do you think it’s a real angel, Mum?’ asked Emma.
‘I am not sure, darling.’ She shifted uneasily.
‘I believe it’s real,’ said Emma, crossing her arms. ‘Otherwise, everything is just too awful. Why can’t you adults just sort out these problems? We need an angel. Something good has to happen.’
A wide man moved in front of them, blocking their view. He smelt of old socks mixed with pubs and pie. He looked up at the angel and sniggered. Emma’s mother tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around. His shiny cheeks drooped down to his chin and his tiny eyes were almost buried beneath his floppy eyebrows. Even before he spoke, Nell knew who it was. Emma grimaced and folded her arms even tighter.
‘Such a pity!’ he purred, placing his clammy hand on Emma’s mother’s arm. His eyes narrowed further into the folds of his face as he attempted a false smile.
‘Mr Tribulus, hello. I hoped we might see you. You see, I was wondering if you might change your mind.’ She clasped her hands together. ‘It is a lot to ask, I know. I am certain I will have some money to pay you for the rent soon, just not right now. Since you doubled it when I lost my job, and with my husband in the hospital, well, it’s hard. We really would like to stay. Perhaps I could work in one of your many businesses here? Please?’ Nell felt Emma cringe. Mr Tribulus shook his head. Sweat flew off him and landed on her forehead. Warm air blasted over Nell as Emma huffed through her nostrils and wiped it off.
‘I am afraid there is simply nothing I can do.’ His thin mouth almost disappeared out of sight into his fleshy chin. Which was fortunate because he had a large piece of gristle stuck between his teeth.
‘Slug,’ muttered Emma. Nell slipped down a little as Emma’s mother elbowed her.
‘Well, Mr Tribulus, here is my card.’ She tried to meet his eyes and handed it to him with her own best attempt at a smile. She grasped her hands together again. ‘If you can think of anything. Any way to allow us to pay the rent a little later. Or work here in Hope’s End. Please. Anything.’ Nell knew Emma’s stomach was churning. It was so humiliating.
‘Goodbye, Susan. You can drop the keys in to me at Gluttontwerp House by the end of Christmas Eve. Three days is very generous, I think you will agree.’
‘My name is Sara,’ she croaked. He looked up at the tree again, laughed and shook his head. He blustered off, shedding beads of grease, and muttering to himself as he walked.
Emma’s mother put her purse and remaining cards back into her handbag and pretended she wasn’t crying. ‘Well, that’s fine! Good actually! I love Pewksbury anyway, always wanted to live there. There’s a lovely view of the sewage works from the flat. And I’m sure I will enjoy working at that new factory. I’ve never worked with experimental chemicals before. We will get used to the smells.’ Nell sensed Emma’s heart clenching.
‘I thought you said it was a sherbet factory?’ said Emma.
‘Oh, did I? Well, there really is very little difference.’ She squirmed.
‘I would rather starve to death than live there. I. Am. Not. Going.’ Emma re-crossed her arms. If she had more arms to cross, she would have. ‘We belong here, and that’s that.’
‘And did you know Pewksbury school has reopened since the enquiry into the dead fish?’
But Emma wasn’t listening. As the mayor gazed up at her glinting angel high above, the greatest idea she ever had bubbled into her mind. An idea that would change everything. Emma turned away from her mother and pressed her hands against her chest, squashing Nell closer to her heart. Nell followed her gaze up – to the angel at the top of the tree. Emma spoke in a tone you might use to address royalty.
‘Oh, Angelic One. I absolutely and completely know you are real. I believe! So please grant my wish. Stop Mr Tribulus from being such a greedy, vile, slug-headed twit. I don’t want to live in pukey Pewksbury, I want to stay here in Hope’s End. Please make Dad better and give Mum back her job. She loved working at the bookshop. Please, only you can help me. Thank you.’ She bowed her head, her eyes shut so tight that her face scrunched up. The angel stared down at them, swaying to and fro, gleaming against the inky, greenish sky.
At the very moment Emma made her wish, Nell’s body fizzed and popped all over. It tingled and prickled in her core and sparkled and buzzed on her edges. Feelings she had never had before. It was as if starlight swirled through her, into every particle. Her soul shone. A faint beat in her chest grew strong, pulsing and thumping. Energy whizzed from the top of her little head to the tips of her tiny toes. She wriggled them. She stared at her fingers and opened and closed her hands.
‘Blinking baubles, I can move!’ said Nell. She put her hand to her mouth and pressed it. ‘And I can speak! What’s happening to me?’ She wriggled some more, delight fizzing through her. She laughed, a little too loud, then stopped herself and covered her mouth with her hands again. ‘Oops!’ She looked up at Emma from the pocket and stood still.
‘What’s so funny?’ said Emma and her mother at the same time, looking at each other. ‘Nothing,’ they both said. They each thought the other had finally cracked up.
Nell sank into the pocket, holding her hands over her smiling mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut as if to hold in the beautiful new feelings of life that whirled wildly inside. She didn’t know what to think about first, or what to do. So, she stayed still and quiet. One powerful thought would not leave her. Emma had wished on the angel, and Nell would do everything she could to make sure the angel got that wish. It was their only hope. She gazed up at the angel, courage blazing in her heart. I am coming to have a word with you! They turned to go home.
***
How do you take care of yourself when you feel vulnerable around the festive season?
Really loved reading this post Kate, thank you. Reminds me of many of my own solitary christmases trying to remain upbeat but the past weighing still too heavy. I LOVE your journey to writing your book, it's very uplifting 🙏