Hey y’all. Hope everyone’s having a great day! If not, look up to Heaven and smile, because God is still good, His mercy endures forever, and His love for you is everlasting! Remember, HE knows the plans HE has for you. ❤️Oh, be sure to read parts 1 & 2 of the story before reading this one, and if you’re all caught up, here goes! 🎄❄️💨
Carol and the ghost of Christmas past appeared inside of Carol’s parents home. It was Christmas Eve 1998. Carol was eight years old. Little Carol, her mom and dad sat fireside in their living room, roasting marshmallows, drinking hot chocolate and singing Christmas Carols. “I remember this night,” Carol said smiling. “I used to love to sing when I was younger.” Carol listened to her younger self entertain her parents by singing “Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer” and doing a cute little dance. Carol began to sing along and do the dance moves with her younger self. Her parents applauded little Carol and then her Father said, “Okay, Carol. Time for bed.” “But dad, can’t I stay up a little while longer?” little Carol said. “Not if you want Santa to come,” her Father said. “But I want to meet Santa,” little Carol said. “But you did honey, remember?” her mom said. “You met him last week at the mall. Remember, when you took the picture with him and told him what you wanted for Christmas?” “Oh, yeah,” little Carol said, while yawning. Her parents walked her to her bedroom, they all said their prayers together. Then they tucked little Carol in, and gave her a kiss. “Good night,” her parents said. Her mom turned off the light and closed the door. The next day was Christmas and little Carol jumped up opening all of her presents. Then later, her family went caroling with their church. “I used to love Caroling,” she smiled lovingly at her past self. Then her smile quickly turned upside, “Until.” Carol saw herself in fifth grade during the Christmas season. She was being teased by the class bully. The teacher asked the kid bully to answer a multiplication question, and he got it wrong. Little Carol raised her hand, and gave the correct answer. The kid felt ashamed, and took his frustrations out on Carol during lunch. He tripped her up and made her drop her tray, and her face landed in her mashed potatoes and gravy. All the kids laughed at her. “Aww, poor Carol Ling. Hey, who wants to hear some Christmas Carol’s?” the bully asked, looking around the lunch room. The kid bully put one foot on Carol’s back. “You think you’re so smart, and have the perfect family. Always out caroling and spreading holiday cheer. Well, how about you sing for us now, Carol Ling? Whadaya say, folks?” The kids screamed, “yeah!” Carol tried to move herself from underneath the bully’s feet, but he pressed harder. “Not. Until. You start. Caroling. Carol Ling,” he said in a harsh mumble. “Hey, that’s going to be your new nickname,” he said with excitement, as if he’d come up with the best idea ever. “Caroling Carol Ling, and every time I see you,” he went back to the harsh mumble tone. “You’d better sing, or else,” the bully said punching one of his fist into his other hand and turning his fist side to side in his palm, while giving Carol an evil stare. Carol swallowed hard. She knew that meant if she didn’t sing as the kid bully requested, she’d get a beat down. Ever since then, all the kids called her caroling Carol Ling, and Carol began to hate singing or caroling, and she resented the fact that her parents named her Carol Ling. Fifth grade was when Carol also began to hate Christmas. Carol became upset looking at the embarrassment of her past. The pain was too much. “I don’t want to see anymore of this,” she said calmly but sadly. “Please, just make it stop,” she said to the ghost of Christmas past. Before she knew it, she was back home in her bed, but then her alarm on her cell went off and she grabbed her phone without looking at it and powered it off. Then she realized what she’d done. She jumped up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower to get ready for work, but she could see through her blinds that it was still dark outside. “What on earth?” Then someone tapped her on her shoulder three times with their finger. She turned around slowly, and it was a woman neatly attired in a business suit. “Who are you, and why are you in my house?” Carol said as she got into fighting stance. “You can throw punches all you want to, but I won’t feel it,” the neatly attired woman said. “Okay psycho, if you insist,” Carol said. “After what I went through in fifth grade, my father made sure I took the best martial arts classes, so you better bring it,” Carol said before throwing a jab that went through the lady. “Ahhh,” Carol screamed. “What are you? What am I? Am I asleep? I gotta be still asleep. Who are you?” Carol said, as she backed away from the woman. “I’m the ghost of Christmas present, and I’m on a timeline, in which we don’t have much time, so if you’re done, can we get this over with?” “Get what over with? What are you talking about?” Carol asked. “You ask too many irrelevant questions. I can show you better than I can tell you, now let’s go,” the lady said grabbing Carol’s hand and taking her downstairs. “Wait, are we going to fly? Peter Pan took off with me without warning, and it almost gave me a heart attack. Could you at least warn me before.” The woman cut Carol off. First of all that wasn’t Peter Pan. However Peter Pan is.” Carol cut the woman off, “I know, his uncle’s brother cousin, twice removed.” “Exactly, the woman smiled. Secondly, flying isn’t my style. At least not in the air. The woman held out her right hand and Carol’s front door flung open. It was a red convertible Porsche. “Wow,” Carol said. “Nice ride.” “Thanks,” the woman said. “Let’s go.” Carol and the ghost of Christmas present day arrived at Romona’s house.