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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Family
- Published: 12/06/2019
Holiday Traditions
Born 1944, F, from Melbourne, FL, United StatesHoliday Traditions
by
Valerie Allen
“I'm beginning to hate Christmas,” Grace said. Her chubby fingers gripped her coffee mug as she turned toward her friend.
“You have a bad attitude,” Holly said. She stepped away from the coffee machine and picked up two small sugar packets. She held them together by the top edges and gently shook them until the granules fell to the bottom. She tore them open with a practiced move and sprinkled the sugar into the dark warm liquid. She lowered her voice. “Besides, you can't say Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, or Feliz Navidad.”
“God forbid!” Grace said and rolled her eyes.
Holly bent sideways from the waist toward her friend. “Can't say that G-o-d word either.” She looked around the employee lounge. “You better cut it out before you get both of us fired,” she whispered.
“See, this is exactly why I'm beginning to hate . . .The Holidays. All these rules about political correctness, cultural diversity, and social sensitivity. HR is becoming more and more ridiculous every day.”
“Hey, the folks in Human Resources have to make a living too you know.” Holly raised her eyebrows. “What would they do with themselves if they couldn't come up with some new policies and procedures?”
“Sure, policies and procedures—for the rest of us to follow.”
“Well, I enjoy Chr...the Holiday Season,” Holly corrected herself.
Grace shook her finger at Holly like a mother scolding her child for using a curse word. “Woooo, you almost got caught using the “C” word. Shame on you!”
They both laughed and headed toward a small table in the center of the room. The table was scattered with streamers of red and silver tinsel, interspersed with green ribbons.
“To be truthful, isn't that what this Holiday is all about?” Holly asked. “Isn't the whole world coming together to celebrate the birth of Jesus?”
“As my mother used to say, You better watch your tongue young lady.” Grace tilted her head to one side. “I'm sure the 'J' word is off-limits, even if it is His birthday.”
“I thought this was the season of love and caring. Doing all those family holiday traditions.” Holly stirred her coffee. “This is just a private conversation between us. No one is listening.”
“I wouldn't be too sure about that," Grace said. “I think those HR people have spies in our midst; listening to our every word; watching our every move.”
“You think there are moles among us?”
“I do,” Grace said.
“Please, you're starting to sound paranoid.”
“That's what happens when we're denied personal choices and civil freedoms. We need to think for ourselves. We need to be allowed and encouraged to do so. That's why we live in a free country. We can make our own decisions,” Grace said.
Holly grasped her mug with both hands and drew back from her friend. “Now you sound like you're running for office.”
“Ha! You know what I heard?” Grace leaned forward and bent over her coffee mug. “You know what they're doing next?”
“What's that?” Holly asked and sipped her coffee.
“They're going to assign us a Secret Santa. We're not allowed to choose a name from someone in our department. No, no. None of that.” Grace shook her finger back and forth. “They're going to match us up with someone from another division and force us to be a Secret Santa with a stranger.”
“Really? What's the point of that?” Holly asked.
“More cultural diversity and social sensitivity.”
“I don't see how that will work. Besides, I've been here for six years and no one seemed insulted by our various celebrations. Even, Barbara, our token Atheist, was okay with the whole thing.”
“Do you know anyone in accounting?”
“No. What would I have to do with the bean counters?”
“Exactly. How about the guys in maintenance?” Grace asked.
“I know Eddie.” Holly smiled and raised her mug slightly as if offering a toast. “He's a doll; brings me an extra roll of TP on a weekly basis—just in case we run out.”
“You're kidding! Eddie does that for you?”
“Great to have friends in high places.” Holly grinned.
“Wish I had known that last week. I'd have been digging around in your desk.”
“Shh! It's our little secret. Gotta love my man, Eddie.”
“Okay, so you know Eddie in maintenance, but what about someone in landscaping?”
“No. You've got me there. Truth is, outside of our department, I don't really know anyone. I give everyone a smile and a Hi there, when we cross paths, but can't say I really know who they are—except security.” Holly shook her head. “All that checking in and checking out business.”
“Oh, I know those guys on a first name basis,” Grace said. “They're always manhandling my lunch, but it makes me feel safe all over.” She placed one hand over her heart.
They both laughed.
“They're just doing their job. Stop being such a Grinch,” Holly said.
“Hmm. . . Grinch? Grinch. I wonder if that's on the Forbidden Word List?”
“Oh, stop! All of this sounds like a First World problem to me.” Holly waved her hand in the air. “Truthfully, there are so many people with more serious issues than being given an assigned Secret Santa. This time of year makes all the awful things in the world seem even worse.”
“It's not really any worse in December than in July,” Grace said.
“I know that. Pain is pain; suffering is suffering; loneliness is loneliness. It just appears more difficult when the whole world seems to be happy, kissing, seeing family, giving gifts, singing at church—and overeating.”
“So, by comparison, sadness becomes sadder in December,” Grace said.
“Something like that.”
“Well, those idiots in HR aside, I'm going to enjoy Chr. . .the Holiday Season.”
Holly nodded. “Now, that's what I call an attitude adjustment. What're your plans?”
“Cooking and eating. Gaining about five pounds or so and enjoying every one of them— until January.”
“Who's coming to eat all that wonderful food?” Holly asked.
“My folks. His folks. The kids. His nutty sister and her friend. His crazy brother and his nasty wife and their pain-in-the-neck, ungrateful, bratty kids.”
“Sounds delightful.” Holly studied her friend. “I hear your words, but I see you smiling, so it can't be that bad.”
Grace leaned back in her chair. “No, it's not. Actually, I come out looking good. My parents think I'm a saint to tolerate his relatives. His parents think I'm terrific compared to their other in-laws. My husband appreciates me for doing all the shopping and making his favorite foods. He loves it when I make sauteed onions and mushrooms with Sherry.”
“Yum, that does sound good. You're lucky you have the family thing going on.”
“You're right. It's a lot of work, but I look forward to it—once a year, anyway.”
“That's the spirit!” Holly said.
“What's going on with you for the holidays?”
Holly looked intently into the dark liquid in her cup. “Visiting my father.”
“Where does he live?”
“Pensacola.”
“Wow, that's a long trip from Ft. Lauderdale. Flying or driving?”
“Flying. Not enough time to drive.”
“How long will you stay?”
“Just a few hours.”
“A few hours? It's a long haul to visit for just a few hours. Any other relatives up that way you could stay with?”
“No. I'm an only and my mother passed away a few years ago.”
“I didn't know that. Good you still have your dad in the picture. Is he in good health?”
“Sure, I guess,” Holly avoided eye contact.
“You guess? You don't know?”
“I only see him once a year. We're not really close.”
“Did you grow up in Pensacola?”
“Yes, until I was ten, and then Mom and I moved to Ft. Lauderdale.”
“Your father decided to stay in Pensacola?”
“He has always lived there. My folks divorced and Mom and I moved away.”
“That must have been tough.”
“It was at first, but Mom and I had a good life together. We made it on our own.”
“Did your dad stay in touch?” Grace asked.
“No, not really. My mom insisted I had to visit him once a year during the holidays.”
“She insisted? That's unusual. Most ex-wives are not exactly thrilled to encourage a relationship between their child and the far-away father.”
“My mom was unusual. The older I get the more I realize that. I think we had to make the annual trip based on some legal requirement, but she never explained it to me.”
“Court-ordered visitation?” Grace asked.
“Something like that.”
“Did your father ever come to visit you in Lauderdale?”
“No.” Holly hesitated. “He couldn't get free to leave Pensacola.”
“I'm amazed you wanted to visit him each year. He didn't seem that interested in keeping up with you.”
“I didn't want to see him, especially as a teenager. One Christmas I remember arguing with my mother about it. I always thought of him as my Secret Santa—a secret I didn't want to deal with.”
“It had to be hard, especially on Christmas,” Grace said.
“My mom said it was going to be one of our Christmas Holiday Traditions until I turned 18 and then I could visit or not visit. It would be my decision.”
“Your Mom was a no-nonsense kind of gal,” Grace said.
“She was, but she made the trip nice for us—except the actual visit with my father. We'd wake up early, go to the beach and attend a sunrise service. We'd come home and open gifts. Then we'd hop in the car and she'd drive an hour or so while I slept in the back seat. She'd always find a nice place to stop and enjoy a special Christmas breakfast. We'd sing Christmas songs while she was driving and I'd get to play with my new toys. My mom called it our, 'cool yule'. She always made it special.”
“Sounds like your mom took a miserable situation and turned it into something fun for both of you.”
“She did—every year. She said I needed to get to know my father on my own terms—the good and the bad. We only visited on Christmas afternoon for a few hours. So, Mom would pack the car on Christmas Eve and we'd be up early to start our Christmas Holiday Traditions. She said it was the season of love and caring and that's what we were going to do.”
“Was it one of those friendly divorces where all three of you could get together without thoughts of homicide?” Grace asked.
“No. It definitely wasn't easy for me or Mom. She'd drop me off to visit my father and she'd wait outside in the car. I hated it, but she said one day it would help me learn about the kind of man I wanted to marry.”
“And did it?”
“Not exactly. I think what I really learned about was the kind of man I didn't want to marry.”
“Sorry to hear that. I'm a Daddy's Girl. My dad was the buffer between me and the rest of the world, especially during my wild teenage years.” Grace shook her head. “I sure gave my parents a run for the money—don't know how or why they put up with me.”
Holly smiled. “Love. That's what parents do for their kids. They keep loving them no matter what.”
“I guess.”
* * * *
“Come this way, Ma'am.” The muscles of the guard's neck pushed against his collar. “Stand still and lift your arms over your head.”
Holly stepped onto the hard rubber platform, matching her feet with those outlined in yellow on the mat. The uniformed man passed a wand from her head to her toes, front and back.
“Anything to declare Ma'am?” he asked in a clipped voice.
“No.”
“Any weapons, explosives, contraband, or forbidden items?” His practiced words brought Holly back to her childhood visits.
“No.”
“Any jewelry, watch, cash, valuables of any kind?”
“No.”
“Here's your pass number. The time stamp is 1:37 PM. Your visit will end at exactly 4:37 PM,” the guard said.
“I understand.”
“You've been here before?”
“Many times.”
He looked at her critically.
“It's a family tradition,” she said.
He studied her face and nodded. “So you know the routine. The corrections officer will alert you at 4:20 PM. He'll escort you back here to facilitate your exit from the prison. Any questions, Ma'am?”
“No, none. I understand what's it all about. Thank you,” she offered a small smile.
The guard nodded and gestured toward the dim hallway. “Happy Holidays, Ma'am.”
“Thank you and Merry Christmas to you.”
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
Holiday Traditions
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review on
Amazon.com or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
Copyright 2016 by Valerie Allen
All rights reserved
For more information, please contact:
ValerieAllenWriter.com
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
Amazon.com/author/ValerieAllen
Amazon.com/dp/B01LW81MOU
About the Author
Valerie Allen is a psychologist, educator, and author. She writes fiction, non-fiction, short stories, and children's books. She previously wrote a newspaper column, Family Matters. Her parenting articles have been published online and in magazines nationwide.
She is a popular speaker at book fairs, writers' conferences, and libraries, using her book, "Write, Publish, Sell!" 2nd Edition.
She also conducts seminars for medical and mental health professionals using her self-help book, "Beyond the Inkblots: Confusion to Harmony."
Her fiction includes: " 'Tis Herself: Short Story Collection, Volumes One, Two, and Three, A Gift for Mom, Stories for the Man in Your Life, Suffer the Little Children, Sins of the Father, Amazing Grace, The Prodigal Son, and My Father's Business."
Dr. Allen is a Florida Licensed and Nationally Board Certified School Psychologist, and a Certified Case Manager.
She has served as a member of the Space Coast Writers' Guild, The National League of American Pen Women, Cape Canaveral Branch, and is the co-founder of Authors for Authors.
She lives in warm and sunny Florida and enjoys reading and writing.
~ ~ ~
Short Stories
by
Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
A True Miracle
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You, Mr. Jackson!
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Words of Wisdom
Valentine's Day
Visiting Day
~ ~ ~
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
Holiday Traditions
by
Valerie Allen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
Holiday Traditions(Valerie Allen)
Holiday Traditions
by
Valerie Allen
“I'm beginning to hate Christmas,” Grace said. Her chubby fingers gripped her coffee mug as she turned toward her friend.
“You have a bad attitude,” Holly said. She stepped away from the coffee machine and picked up two small sugar packets. She held them together by the top edges and gently shook them until the granules fell to the bottom. She tore them open with a practiced move and sprinkled the sugar into the dark warm liquid. She lowered her voice. “Besides, you can't say Christmas, Chanukah, Kwanza, or Feliz Navidad.”
“God forbid!” Grace said and rolled her eyes.
Holly bent sideways from the waist toward her friend. “Can't say that G-o-d word either.” She looked around the employee lounge. “You better cut it out before you get both of us fired,” she whispered.
“See, this is exactly why I'm beginning to hate . . .The Holidays. All these rules about political correctness, cultural diversity, and social sensitivity. HR is becoming more and more ridiculous every day.”
“Hey, the folks in Human Resources have to make a living too you know.” Holly raised her eyebrows. “What would they do with themselves if they couldn't come up with some new policies and procedures?”
“Sure, policies and procedures—for the rest of us to follow.”
“Well, I enjoy Chr...the Holiday Season,” Holly corrected herself.
Grace shook her finger at Holly like a mother scolding her child for using a curse word. “Woooo, you almost got caught using the “C” word. Shame on you!”
They both laughed and headed toward a small table in the center of the room. The table was scattered with streamers of red and silver tinsel, interspersed with green ribbons.
“To be truthful, isn't that what this Holiday is all about?” Holly asked. “Isn't the whole world coming together to celebrate the birth of Jesus?”
“As my mother used to say, You better watch your tongue young lady.” Grace tilted her head to one side. “I'm sure the 'J' word is off-limits, even if it is His birthday.”
“I thought this was the season of love and caring. Doing all those family holiday traditions.” Holly stirred her coffee. “This is just a private conversation between us. No one is listening.”
“I wouldn't be too sure about that," Grace said. “I think those HR people have spies in our midst; listening to our every word; watching our every move.”
“You think there are moles among us?”
“I do,” Grace said.
“Please, you're starting to sound paranoid.”
“That's what happens when we're denied personal choices and civil freedoms. We need to think for ourselves. We need to be allowed and encouraged to do so. That's why we live in a free country. We can make our own decisions,” Grace said.
Holly grasped her mug with both hands and drew back from her friend. “Now you sound like you're running for office.”
“Ha! You know what I heard?” Grace leaned forward and bent over her coffee mug. “You know what they're doing next?”
“What's that?” Holly asked and sipped her coffee.
“They're going to assign us a Secret Santa. We're not allowed to choose a name from someone in our department. No, no. None of that.” Grace shook her finger back and forth. “They're going to match us up with someone from another division and force us to be a Secret Santa with a stranger.”
“Really? What's the point of that?” Holly asked.
“More cultural diversity and social sensitivity.”
“I don't see how that will work. Besides, I've been here for six years and no one seemed insulted by our various celebrations. Even, Barbara, our token Atheist, was okay with the whole thing.”
“Do you know anyone in accounting?”
“No. What would I have to do with the bean counters?”
“Exactly. How about the guys in maintenance?” Grace asked.
“I know Eddie.” Holly smiled and raised her mug slightly as if offering a toast. “He's a doll; brings me an extra roll of TP on a weekly basis—just in case we run out.”
“You're kidding! Eddie does that for you?”
“Great to have friends in high places.” Holly grinned.
“Wish I had known that last week. I'd have been digging around in your desk.”
“Shh! It's our little secret. Gotta love my man, Eddie.”
“Okay, so you know Eddie in maintenance, but what about someone in landscaping?”
“No. You've got me there. Truth is, outside of our department, I don't really know anyone. I give everyone a smile and a Hi there, when we cross paths, but can't say I really know who they are—except security.” Holly shook her head. “All that checking in and checking out business.”
“Oh, I know those guys on a first name basis,” Grace said. “They're always manhandling my lunch, but it makes me feel safe all over.” She placed one hand over her heart.
They both laughed.
“They're just doing their job. Stop being such a Grinch,” Holly said.
“Hmm. . . Grinch? Grinch. I wonder if that's on the Forbidden Word List?”
“Oh, stop! All of this sounds like a First World problem to me.” Holly waved her hand in the air. “Truthfully, there are so many people with more serious issues than being given an assigned Secret Santa. This time of year makes all the awful things in the world seem even worse.”
“It's not really any worse in December than in July,” Grace said.
“I know that. Pain is pain; suffering is suffering; loneliness is loneliness. It just appears more difficult when the whole world seems to be happy, kissing, seeing family, giving gifts, singing at church—and overeating.”
“So, by comparison, sadness becomes sadder in December,” Grace said.
“Something like that.”
“Well, those idiots in HR aside, I'm going to enjoy Chr. . .the Holiday Season.”
Holly nodded. “Now, that's what I call an attitude adjustment. What're your plans?”
“Cooking and eating. Gaining about five pounds or so and enjoying every one of them— until January.”
“Who's coming to eat all that wonderful food?” Holly asked.
“My folks. His folks. The kids. His nutty sister and her friend. His crazy brother and his nasty wife and their pain-in-the-neck, ungrateful, bratty kids.”
“Sounds delightful.” Holly studied her friend. “I hear your words, but I see you smiling, so it can't be that bad.”
Grace leaned back in her chair. “No, it's not. Actually, I come out looking good. My parents think I'm a saint to tolerate his relatives. His parents think I'm terrific compared to their other in-laws. My husband appreciates me for doing all the shopping and making his favorite foods. He loves it when I make sauteed onions and mushrooms with Sherry.”
“Yum, that does sound good. You're lucky you have the family thing going on.”
“You're right. It's a lot of work, but I look forward to it—once a year, anyway.”
“That's the spirit!” Holly said.
“What's going on with you for the holidays?”
Holly looked intently into the dark liquid in her cup. “Visiting my father.”
“Where does he live?”
“Pensacola.”
“Wow, that's a long trip from Ft. Lauderdale. Flying or driving?”
“Flying. Not enough time to drive.”
“How long will you stay?”
“Just a few hours.”
“A few hours? It's a long haul to visit for just a few hours. Any other relatives up that way you could stay with?”
“No. I'm an only and my mother passed away a few years ago.”
“I didn't know that. Good you still have your dad in the picture. Is he in good health?”
“Sure, I guess,” Holly avoided eye contact.
“You guess? You don't know?”
“I only see him once a year. We're not really close.”
“Did you grow up in Pensacola?”
“Yes, until I was ten, and then Mom and I moved to Ft. Lauderdale.”
“Your father decided to stay in Pensacola?”
“He has always lived there. My folks divorced and Mom and I moved away.”
“That must have been tough.”
“It was at first, but Mom and I had a good life together. We made it on our own.”
“Did your dad stay in touch?” Grace asked.
“No, not really. My mom insisted I had to visit him once a year during the holidays.”
“She insisted? That's unusual. Most ex-wives are not exactly thrilled to encourage a relationship between their child and the far-away father.”
“My mom was unusual. The older I get the more I realize that. I think we had to make the annual trip based on some legal requirement, but she never explained it to me.”
“Court-ordered visitation?” Grace asked.
“Something like that.”
“Did your father ever come to visit you in Lauderdale?”
“No.” Holly hesitated. “He couldn't get free to leave Pensacola.”
“I'm amazed you wanted to visit him each year. He didn't seem that interested in keeping up with you.”
“I didn't want to see him, especially as a teenager. One Christmas I remember arguing with my mother about it. I always thought of him as my Secret Santa—a secret I didn't want to deal with.”
“It had to be hard, especially on Christmas,” Grace said.
“My mom said it was going to be one of our Christmas Holiday Traditions until I turned 18 and then I could visit or not visit. It would be my decision.”
“Your Mom was a no-nonsense kind of gal,” Grace said.
“She was, but she made the trip nice for us—except the actual visit with my father. We'd wake up early, go to the beach and attend a sunrise service. We'd come home and open gifts. Then we'd hop in the car and she'd drive an hour or so while I slept in the back seat. She'd always find a nice place to stop and enjoy a special Christmas breakfast. We'd sing Christmas songs while she was driving and I'd get to play with my new toys. My mom called it our, 'cool yule'. She always made it special.”
“Sounds like your mom took a miserable situation and turned it into something fun for both of you.”
“She did—every year. She said I needed to get to know my father on my own terms—the good and the bad. We only visited on Christmas afternoon for a few hours. So, Mom would pack the car on Christmas Eve and we'd be up early to start our Christmas Holiday Traditions. She said it was the season of love and caring and that's what we were going to do.”
“Was it one of those friendly divorces where all three of you could get together without thoughts of homicide?” Grace asked.
“No. It definitely wasn't easy for me or Mom. She'd drop me off to visit my father and she'd wait outside in the car. I hated it, but she said one day it would help me learn about the kind of man I wanted to marry.”
“And did it?”
“Not exactly. I think what I really learned about was the kind of man I didn't want to marry.”
“Sorry to hear that. I'm a Daddy's Girl. My dad was the buffer between me and the rest of the world, especially during my wild teenage years.” Grace shook her head. “I sure gave my parents a run for the money—don't know how or why they put up with me.”
Holly smiled. “Love. That's what parents do for their kids. They keep loving them no matter what.”
“I guess.”
* * * *
“Come this way, Ma'am.” The muscles of the guard's neck pushed against his collar. “Stand still and lift your arms over your head.”
Holly stepped onto the hard rubber platform, matching her feet with those outlined in yellow on the mat. The uniformed man passed a wand from her head to her toes, front and back.
“Anything to declare Ma'am?” he asked in a clipped voice.
“No.”
“Any weapons, explosives, contraband, or forbidden items?” His practiced words brought Holly back to her childhood visits.
“No.”
“Any jewelry, watch, cash, valuables of any kind?”
“No.”
“Here's your pass number. The time stamp is 1:37 PM. Your visit will end at exactly 4:37 PM,” the guard said.
“I understand.”
“You've been here before?”
“Many times.”
He looked at her critically.
“It's a family tradition,” she said.
He studied her face and nodded. “So you know the routine. The corrections officer will alert you at 4:20 PM. He'll escort you back here to facilitate your exit from the prison. Any questions, Ma'am?”
“No, none. I understand what's it all about. Thank you,” she offered a small smile.
The guard nodded and gestured toward the dim hallway. “Happy Holidays, Ma'am.”
“Thank you and Merry Christmas to you.”
# # #
Thank you for taking the time to read
Holiday Traditions
If you enjoyed it,
please consider telling your friends
and posting a review on
Amazon.com or other online sites.
Word-of-mouth referrals are
an author's best friend
and much appreciated.
Copyright 2016 by Valerie Allen
All rights reserved
For more information, please contact:
ValerieAllenWriter.com
VAllenWriter@gmail.com
Amazon.com/author/ValerieAllen
Amazon.com/dp/B01LW81MOU
About the Author
Valerie Allen is a psychologist, educator, and author. She writes fiction, non-fiction, short stories, and children's books. She previously wrote a newspaper column, Family Matters. Her parenting articles have been published online and in magazines nationwide.
She is a popular speaker at book fairs, writers' conferences, and libraries, using her book, "Write, Publish, Sell!" 2nd Edition.
She also conducts seminars for medical and mental health professionals using her self-help book, "Beyond the Inkblots: Confusion to Harmony."
Her fiction includes: " 'Tis Herself: Short Story Collection, Volumes One, Two, and Three, A Gift for Mom, Stories for the Man in Your Life, Suffer the Little Children, Sins of the Father, Amazing Grace, The Prodigal Son, and My Father's Business."
Dr. Allen is a Florida Licensed and Nationally Board Certified School Psychologist, and a Certified Case Manager.
She has served as a member of the Space Coast Writers' Guild, The National League of American Pen Women, Cape Canaveral Branch, and is the co-founder of Authors for Authors.
She lives in warm and sunny Florida and enjoys reading and writing.
~ ~ ~
Short Stories
by
Valerie Allen
A Good Thing on a Bad Day
A License to Practice
A Marriage of Convenience
A Mother's Love
A Tooth for a Tooth
A True Miracle
Best Wishes
Brotherly Love
Conditional Love
Doggie Tales
Father's Day
Fire Engine Red
Fit for Life
Future Plans
Holiday Traditions
Home for the Holidays
I Remember Momma
Just Be Cos
Ladies in Waiting
Leisureville
Love is in the Air
Match-maker
Mother Knows Best
Potty Talk
Puppy Love
No Goin' Home
Second Chance
Small Steps
Split Second Timing
Thank You, Mr. Jackson!
The Garden of Love
The Lonely Life of Amanda Miller
The Penalty Box
Words of Wisdom
Valentine's Day
Visiting Day
~ ~ ~
Amazon.com/author/valerieallen
Holiday Traditions
by
Valerie Allen
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events, is entirely coincidental.
Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.
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Cheryl Ryan
01/21/2024This was an engaging short story, the conversations between Holly and Grace were very realistic.
Thank you for sharing.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Joel Kiula
01/18/2024What i love about your stories is the ability to capture our attention from the first line. Your stories touches so many important subjects and aspects of life that we can all relate and it is lovely to see that. Thank you and you are doing amazing work
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
01/18/2024Thank you for reading my short story and your kind words about it! When I write I try to tell a story that reflects the lives of ordinary people and families. We all face challenges, often unknown to others, and we all need, and deserve, kindness and respect. I appreciate your comments ~
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Aziz
12/07/2019Really amazing. A lot of things to understand and dimensions to think of. Simple words but heavy with strong meanings.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Valerie Allen
12/07/2019Thank you, Aziz. The holiday season brings many memories especailly of our childhood - some more pleasant than others. This story demonstrates how one loving parent can turn a negative experience into insight and a lesson learned for the child to carry into their adult life.
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