Ah, Christmas. The time of year when the world seems to soften, just a little. The snow falls in gentle whispers, lights twinkle in frosted windows, and the smell of cinnamon and pine fills the air. It’s the season of joy, warmth, and, in the peculiar little village of Everpine Hollow, just a touch of magic.
Now, Everpine was the kind of town that could have been plucked from the pages of a snow globe… well… if snow globes had pages. Winding cobblestone streets, quaint shops with hand-painted signs, and a town square dominated by a massive evergreen, its branches heavy with ornaments. But Everpine had something else, too—something most visitors didn’t know about. You see, Everpine had a ghost.
The townsfolk called her Holly.
No one knew quite when Holly arrived, or if she’d ever left. Some said she was the spirit of a girl who’d lived in the village centuries ago, back when Everpine was little more than a cluster of cottages in the shadow of the mountains. Others whispered that she’d simply appeared one Christmas Eve, as if carried in by the northern winds.
What everyone agreed on was this: Holly only showed herself during the twelve days of Christmas.
Now, before you start picturing something out of a horror story, let me assure you—Holly wasn’t the terrifying kind of ghost. Oh, no. Holly was… mischievous. She didn’t rattle chains or make eerie moaning noises. Instead, she’d blow out candles when no one was looking, tie mistletoe in strange places, or move the star on the town tree so it was just slightly crooked. Once, she even rearranged the letters on the bakery sign to spell “Merry Pies-mas,” and let me tell you, the baker wasn’t thrilled.
But Holly wasn’t just a prankster. There was something else about her. Something that reminded the people of Everpine of the spirit of Christmas itself.
It was Christmas Eve, and the village square was alive with laughter and song. The children skated on the frozen pond, their scarves trailing behind them like colourful ribbons. Couples strolled hand in hand, stopping to share kisses beneath the twinkling lights. And in the center of it all stood a boy named Thomas.
Thomas wasn’t from Everpine. He was just passing through, staying with an elderly aunt he barely knew while his parents sorted out… well, the kinds of things that adults like to pretend don’t affect children. But they do. Oh, they do.
He stood by himself, clutching a steaming mug of cider, watching the happy faces around him. He didn’t feel much like joining in, though. The world felt distant… cold, and not just because of the snow.
And that’s when he saw her.
She was perched on the fountain’s edge, her long white dress blending almost perfectly with the snow. Her hair was dark and wild, and her eyes—oh, her eyes—sparkled like starlight.
“You look sad,” she said, tilting her head.
Thomas blinked. He hadn’t seen her approach.
“I’m not sad,” he lied, trying to hide the shock on his face.
She smiled—a little crooked, a little playful. “Lying isn’t very Christmas-y.”
Thomas frowned. “Who are you?”
“Me?” She leaned closer as if sharing a secret. “I’m Holly. And you, Thomas, are in desperate need of a Christmas adventure.”
Before he could ask how she knew his name, Holly leapt to her feet, snow swirling around her like a cape. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the edge of the square.
“Wait!” he protested. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she said, her voice full of mystery.
Holly led Thomas through the village, past the glowing windows and garlands strung between lamp posts. They stopped in front of the old chapel, its stained glass windows dark and its door slightly ajar.
“Inside,” she said, her voice soft now.
Thomas hesitated. The chapel felt… different. Like the air inside was heavier, richer.
“Go on,” Holly urged, giving him a little nudge.
Thomas stepped inside, and his breath caught. The chapel was empty, but it was far from dark. Candles flickered along the walls, their flames dancing in a way that seemed almost alive. And in the center of the room stood a towering Christmas tree, its ornaments glowing with a light that came from within.
“Do you see it?” Holly whispered.
“See what?” Thomas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“The memories,” she said, gesturing to the ornaments.
Thomas stepped closer, and that’s when he saw them. Tiny scenes played out within the glass bulbs—little fragments of Christmases long past. He saw children opening presents, families sharing meals, snowball fights, and sleigh rides. But more than that, he felt them. The joy, the love, the hope. The sense of togetherness—past and present.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, his voice trembling.
Holly smiled. “They’re the memories of Everpine. Every Christmas, they gather here, so they’re never forgotten.”
Thomas turned to look at her, but she was already fading, her form becoming as translucent as the memories in the ornaments.
“Wait!” he called. “Will I see you again?”
Her smile was the last thing to disappear. “I’ll always be here, Thomas. As long as there’s Christmas in Everpine.”
The next morning, the villagers found Thomas in the chapel, fast asleep beneath the tree. When he woke, he couldn’t explain how he’d gotten there, but he felt… lighter. Warmer.
And if, on Christmas morning, the star on the town tree was just a little crooked, well, no one bothered to fix it. After all, some traditions are worth keeping.
So, if you ever find yourself in Everpine Hollow during the twelve days of Christmas, don’t be surprised if you feel a sudden gust of cold air or if the star on your tree mysteriously moves. That’s just Holly reminding us all that Christmas isn’t about perfection—it’s about the magic of memory, the warmth of love, and a little touch of mischief.
Merry Christmas, my friends.
The CJBuzz 