Wholesome holiday tales SCOllection

Disclaimer: First-person narrative of stories were written by authors Sophia Li and Sophia Zeng in the perspective of the interviewees. Stories were slightly edited to add additional detail. General outline of each story is accurate to real life. 

The holiday season is a period of joy, spent with friends and loved ones, and is truly the most magical time of the year with snow, family and fun! A few Blazers shared their most memorable holiday experiences: 

Mini Love Stories

Photo: Old memories.

Old memories. Photo courtesy of Bitanya Hailu.

Shovel trouble 

Junior Raky Camara spent her favorite holiday season with her brother, senior Habib Camara, in 2016. It was their first time shoveling snow together. Although it was initially a grueling experience, “It was pretty nice because we bonded on the fact that we were in so much pain and suffering,” Raky Camara says. 

The blanket of snow glistening on the driveway crunched under each step. Our driveway stretched for what seemed like a mile as it blended into the snowy road. It was the perfect landscape for snowball fights and making snow angels – but all of it would soon be cleared. As Habib and I sighed, we pulled out our snow shovels and got to work. We shivered with each push, and our hands froze to the shovels. While the sun beamed at our faces, the winter breeze turned our bones into icicles. Still, Habib and I plowed our way through it, gripping our snow shovels and burying our red noses under our plushy parkas, knowing that we were aching together. The sun radiated as we shoveled away the last smidge of snow, and we admired our work. A perfectly clear driveway and completely numb fingers. Afterward, we hopped onto our toasty couch and warmed up with mugs of fresh hot cocoa. For the rest of the day, we watched our favorite cartoons and quickly forgot about all the pain. 

Look ahead! 

Junior Kathryn Gray's favorite memory of the holiday season was with her sister, freshman Kendra Gray, and neighbor when they were in middle school. "When I bring [this story] up with my sister, we can't even tell the whole story because it just makes us laugh so much," Kathryn Gray says. 

It had just snowed a couple of hours ago, so the snow was still soft underneath the sled. The air was crisp as my sister, neighbor and I took turns dragging the sled to Takoma Park Middle School. We were fully covered to prevent the chill from seeping into our skin. Finding an empty path along the hill, my sister and I squeezed onto the sled together. The sled was wide and long, but barely fit us three. Before we knew it, we were racing down the hill, the surroundings blurring as the frictionless snow glided under us. I grabbed tightly onto my sister in front of me to prevent myself from falling off. I was having so much fun when a human figure suddenly appeared in front of us. "Get out of the way!" I screamed. Soon, all three of us were yelling frantically at the figure sitting in the snow. It was too late. We continued speeding down the hill, now with an extra passenger: a small boy, riding on top of us three. The sled eventually drifted to a stop, now way above its intended capacity. 

Sweater weather 

Junior Carlos Lopez's favorite holiday memory was from last year with his puppy Rango, a beagle. “I love Christmas, [and] I love Rango,” Lopez says.

My puppy Rango, just three months old at the time, sat on the hard wooden floor of our living room. The bright lights illuminated his face as he stared up at the Christmas tree. I placed a present in front of him, neatly enshrouded with gift wrap. He tore apart the gift wrap, pieces of it skidding across the floor, to uncover a new squeaky toy and blanket. He gnawed at the squeaky toy, producing a series of loud squeals. My mom slowly removed her hand from behind her back, holding a folded elf sweater. She wrapped the sweater onto Rango, who squirmed around, flailing his paws about. He soon grew to love the sweater, but not in the way you would imagine; he used it like a toy, tearing off the little buttons until none remained.