Merry Christ-- What, the end??

Proverbs 13:19
It is pleasant to see dreams come true, but fools refuse to turn from evil to attain them.

"'...And therefore uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good and will do me good and I say, God bless it!'
The clerk in the Tank involuntarily applauded...."
From "A Christmas Carol", by Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens was a genius when he wrote A Christmas Carol.  When I was re-watching it, I was thinking about it; An old man whom no one really knew but was afraid of.  Charles himself probably didn't know who Ebenezer was till Charles dumped the three spirits into Scrooge's life.  Then it was revealed to him and us the readers who this lonely Scrooge was and how he had become this way as the ghost of Christmas past revealed his past to us. 
That is what a writer could do if they wanted to find out what happened in a character's life, or who this mysterious character was.  I have a few characters in mind who I do not know who they are or how they act other than a mysterious scene.  A still scene except for the wind blowing.  The children waiting.  A haunting scene that creeped me out a little is what came to me when I was half asleep and then awoke.  I want to find out who these people are!  So what do I do?  Hm...............
...
Type type type
...
Um...
Follow them.  Or at least try to.  A boy with black hair and elf like ears looking both ways in an alley.  Complete stranger to me!  Then he turns and runs off into the alley into the shadows into the darkness.  I'm the only one who noticed him.  Follow him!  My brain screams at me and I run after him but he has disappeared in my head.  He wasn't rich.  He was barefoot wearing brown plain clothes.  Maybe a thief...  maybe not.  Maybe a messenger...
At least I have captured down onto paper what I saw.  I know what my other short story for Christmas is about. :)
I saw the Hobbit.  Excited for Rise of the Guardians and Les Miserables (Lay Mizayrobleh is how you pronounce it so I have heard). 
But Christmas is more than movies and games... 
...
and snow.......... hard to say but it is more than snow (although snow is an amazing symbol in the Bible).
It's when God's amazing plan came into action.  And Satan could do nothing about it.  Except try to get a guy to kill all the babies in the area to kill baby Jesus.  Really people?  Did they really think that the son of God could be so easily killed?
Interesting to think about.....

Yeah the world isn't ending today/tomorrow.  As far as I know.  *cricket cricket*  God made the world to stay for a long time till after the rapture.  The world isn't ending unless God makes it end.  The world can't end unless God makes it end because He made it to end only when He makes it end.  Just like a writer makes his/her story end at just the right moment.

K I'm gonna go to bed and tomorrow do school and bake cookies and lemon bars....  and fooooood........
Oh great now I'm hungry.

A Snippet from November/December Writings

The people who walk in darkness will see a great light. For those who live in a land of deep darkness, a light will shine.
Isaiah 9:2

http://katie-writingblog.blogspot.com/2012/12/snippets-of-story-november-and-december.html

Okay I am going to show you a snippet of my Nanowrimo project (I did finish 50,000 words but I didn't finish the story yet).  It is from my story called Thimble or The Maiden of Wulden Hall.  Tell me what you think when you read this.

“You have no evidence that this King of your mother’s imagination was real,” he said.  “The only thing you have is a song.  There is no book about this King; no records!”

The mention of the song wounded her.  Little Gale felt tears coming but tried to stop them.

“Sir, it is the only thing that connects me to my mother’s memory,” she said. 

“And why does she need to be remembered so badly?”

Little Gale hesitated.  She managed to blink back the tears.

“Because the soldiers killed her the very day she was released.  She came home and I got to speak with her for only minutes before they came and killed her.  I do not know why she was killed,” she said finally.

“Neither do I, I am afraid.  But you do not need to remember the dangerous melody or lyrics of what your mother left you,” he said.

Little Gale stood up.  “It is a pretty song!  Nothing more!” she said.  “I am not ‘infected’ as you call it.  What is the evidence that you have that says that I am?”

“Your eyes,” the man said.

“What about them?” she said.

“They are not gray.”

Little Gale breathed.  She had nearly forgotten about what the soldiers had said earlier.  She had been so tired at the time, it was like a dream.  Everyone’s eyes were gray or brown.  It was just the way things were in Wulden.  Little Gale’s eyes were gray.

“My eyes are gray,” she said.

“They are not gray,” he repeated, and then scribbled something down on the gray scrolls with the brown quill pen, in black ink.

“Show me then,” Little Gale said.

The Black Gate’s Keeper gestured to the bowl of water.

“Look for yourself,” he said.

Little Gale stood up and stepped closer to the desk where the bowl was sitting.  She could feel her heart beating faster in her chest as she leaned over with her hands on each side of the bowl of water.

Her face was dirty and her hair was unwashed.  But her eyes were not all the way gray.  There was another color in them.  It was a color she had seen long ago but had forgotten.  The color was blue, but she did not know this.  It was beautiful.

Little Gale was calmed, and she could still feel her heart beating just a little slower than before, which calmed her more.

She could see out of the corner of her eye that the man had a frown on his face, but she wanted to ignore it.

“Is it not a disgusting color?” he said.  Little Gale stared into her reflection.  Her eyes still held that mysterious shade.

“No.  It is strange and foreign, but beautiful,” she said.  She looked up at him.  “How did I get the color in my eyes?”

The man stuttered.  He frowned deeper.

“The Light has touched you,” he said, as if that made her the worst person possible who lived before him.

“So I am special,” Little Gale thought.  She smiled.  “What is so wrong about the light?”

“It hurts our eyes, blinds us!” he said.

“It reveals what was hidden in darkness!  It only blinds you…. Because you have been used to the dark,” Little Gale said, “And if there is light, there must be a king over it, as there is a leader over darkness.”

The man looked troubled now.  He did not know how to reply.

“I am in the wrong kingdom,” Little Gale whispered.