How I Helped a Grouch Love Christmas
Nasaiyah, Age 11, San Pablo, CA

It was snowy day in Denver. I could see Christmas carolers and shiny, snowy cars. At the end of my block lived an old grouch. I just happened to stop by and wish him a Merry Christmas. His house looked like it need some decorations, so I knocked on the door and before I could speak - boom - he slammed the door.

The day after Christmas I saw the grouch sobbing on the porch. I asked him what was wrong.

“The holidays are sad,” he said.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I lost my wife on this very day”.

He went inside for a minute or two. Then he came out with a book and showed photos of a beautiful young women who looked like a superstar. “Who’s that?”

“My wife,” he answered.

“Well, enough of the sad stuff. Would you go to a Christmas party?“

“I don’t know…”

“Come on if you change your mind. I’ll pick you up at 6:00 p.m.,” I said to him.

When the grouch opened the door, he looked stunning. He had a black suit with a colourful tie and black shimmering shiny shoes. We danced all night, until the grouch dropped. I took him home where he thanked me and went inside. I went inside to get ready for bed.

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