The Gingerbread Princess

Christmas Dragons

"Sadly, our kingdom has come to this," Lora whispered to herself. 

After Christmas, people forgot what charity was for, but the decorations meant nothing to them but being pretty. They meant status and sameness.

The kingdom forgot about the Christ child and that sharing cupcakes and soup brought joy.

At one time, the Pink Rose Kingdom had its own Christmas dragon.

Volunteers disguised themselves and gave practical gifts to those who needed them. Now, everything was about flash and expense.

The real dragons were long gone and hidden. 

The unkindness of the winged humans destroyed all magic and creation. Everything was a war of words.

Fairy lights dimmed and no longer lit the sky at night or even in homes.

Everything plunged into darkness.

The world became full of dull shadows, and the paper Christmas dragons vanished, and no one drew them or wrote their stories.

One mother wanted to bring the sparkles back to the sky and inside their hearts, but she didn't know how. Everyone's wings stopped working after Christmas, and none of the citizens of the kingdom could fly.

Her two-story stone cottage looked like all the others in the village after Christmas. Every house is the same.

Inside Lora's and her husband, Mark's, home was furnished with the same beige couches, broken lanterns, and artisan pine dining table that came with the fully furnished home. Uniformity was always welcome, but light was not.

But Lora's own spark started with an unexpected gift from her mother-in-law—a tiny spark that led to the one glowing inside her heart. They reflected in her eyes.

Lora opened the cardboard and stared down at the gift—her little dream, a little blue Christmas wreath for her door. The ornaments were interchangeable and only needed three or four.

"This year is my year for completion, for loving, coziness, and giving. I'll celebrate Christmas all year long."

Her children laughed.

Lora's children helped place the ornaments and glass beads on the wreath.

"Do we get more gifts?" Her youngest placed it on the front of their heavy wooden door.

Her oldest smiled and hugged her. "Don't forget my birthday."

"I won't; you would never let me forget." Lora smiled. "But I might have to fill extra Christmas boxes or make cupcakes."

"Like an Elephant Party with used and silly gifts," her oldest said. "No one hosts those anymore."

"More homemade with love," Lora said. Her wings fluttered. "But I like your idea for an Elephant Party." 

Christmas was always important to Lora, but usually not in terms of decorations. The wreath was a special reminder.

Fire-breathing dragons were smaller than people realized, but soon they would return. And soon the kingdom would have flying people, fairies, and dragons.

Her children would draw the Christmas dragons, creating love.

Even the real dragons knew about Christmas, and they celebrated it all year long, hidden in their caves, as their young ones dined on fish, berries, gingerbread, and cooked eggs.