THE LAST GIFT

Entry for Susanna Leonard Hill’s 14th annual 2024 Holiday Writing Contest

Rules: Write a maximum 250 word children’s holiday story (children here defined as age 12 and under) about a Holiday Mystery!

THE LAST GIFT
By Daniella Kaufman
Word Count: 249

The sleigh was parked. The sun had set.
But Christmas wasn’t over yet.
A gift remained for Santa’s elves.
The last of all upon the shelves.
Mysterious and wrapped just so—
What could it be? They had to know!

The gift was stamped with Santa’s seal.
“Don’t Peek!” it warned in curly teal.
So Holly hugged the box and swayed
to listen to the noise it made.
Her pointy ears picked up the sound—
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
“I think a doll is rolling ‘round!”

Up next came Tinker, tools in tow.
He eyed the gift and chimed, “I know!”
He flipped the box to analyze
dimensions, weight, and ribbon size.
New noises sounded each rotation—
KER-PLUNK. KER-PLUNK. KER-PLUNK.
“Conclusion: Mugs for elf hydration!”

Last came Jingle, bold and spry,
a glint of mischief in his eye.
He spun the box atop his thumb.
Rap-tappy-tapped it like a drum.
Then pressed the present to his ear—
CLICK-I-TY. CLICK-I-TY. CLICK-I-TY.
“A thousand blocks! The answer’s clear!”

When Santa called, “The wait is through!
Unwrap the present saved for you!”
the elves rejoiced and rushed with glee
to open up the gift to see
a doll? Or mugs? Or blocks? No! It’s . . .
GASP. GASP. GASP.
a chocolate Santa!! . . . cracked to bits.

“Oh deer! Snow way!” The three elves cried.
But Santa winked and soon replied,
“Ho-Ho! I see this tasty treat
has been prepared for us to eat!”
The elves all grinned and shared a bite.
The final gift of Christmas night.

Where The Wind Blows

Entry for Susanna Leonard Hill’s 2024 Halloweensie Contest

Contest: write a 100 word Halloween story appropriate for children (children here defined as 12 and under) (title not included in word count) using the words tiptoegoblin, and chill.

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS
By Daniella Kaufman
Word Count: 99

On Halloween, when darkness falls
and clouds eclipse the moon’s faint light,
the wind sweeps in, a ghostly whisper,
guiding creatures through the night.

It stirs a chilly breath of air,
so branches bend to point the way
and fall leaves tiptoe down the street—
“Come follow us!” they seem to say.

A gust swoops down a winding path
to flicker pumpkins’ eerie glow.
The fairies gasp! The goblins shriek!
But follow where the breezes blow.

It shakes a door, which opens wide
to welcome trick-or-treating cheers!
The wind then whistles with delight,
wanes to a wisp, and disappears.