Friday, December 5, 2014

The Christmas Pudding, by Matthew Mead

During the trials and tribulations of the past year I have found another voice.  Here, and all this month, I am sharing parts of my short story, THE CHRISTMAS PUDDING.  Follow along as young Joseph learns about life's lessons through the twists and turns of tragedy, joy and the making of holiday traditions.

About six weeks before Christmas, when the days were cold and the wind howled through the leafless trees, my mother and I would take a walk out beyond Turtle Pond to a narrow dirt path that led out beyond a walnut grove and eventually to a house.  The structure was nestled among some old oak trees and always seemed to be illuminated by sunshine. It was an elegant structure.  Dry and wind-worn to a honey color.  The porch plank floor and shutters looked like beach wood and the clapboards, once coated in paint now faded to a textural pattern of gray wood, flecked with red pigment. A bay window jutted from the facade of the house looking like the front of a trolley car.  Its twin window anchored the side porch reflecting our image as we approached  the house and climbed the three granite steps to arrive at the door.  There was a darkened wood carriage barn to the side of the property and no other homes or structures for miles.  We made the trek every year.  My mother wrapped me in a woolen coat lined with a deep blue and forest green plaid, and we each carried a bulky fragrant brown paper parcel bundled with a coarse and fibrous twine that was slightly smoothed by a covering of wax. This year, my constant repositioning of the paper parcel tore the upper left corner, and the smell of cinnamon and clove filled the air as my clutch respirated the bundle like a fireplace bellows. I was seven years old, and this was the third time I had made the walk with my mother to this place. This time I was fascinated enough to commit the details to memory...


  1. Just WONDERFUL Matthew!!!! You are talented in so many ways...always remember that!

  2. LOVE...So happy you are writing...can't wait to buy this book.
    Happy Holidays

  3. Lovely!! Nostalgic stories such as this always make my heart feel warm and full. Thanks for sharing Matthew.

  4. I look forward to the next installment. xoxo


We love to hear from our readers and friends! Thank you for taking the time to talk to us.