What is a happy and sad Christmas?

A sad and happy Christmas

Christmas is coming. I want a pony. In order to let mom and dad really understand this, I specially announced that I don't want anything else.

"Nothing but ponies?" Dad asked.

"Nothing." I said.

"Not even a pair of high boots?"

This makes me very embarrassed. I really want a pair of boots, but I still insist on a pony. "No, not even boots."

"Don't you want candy? There must be something in your socks. Santa Claus can't put a pony in it. "

It's true, Santa Claus can't lead a pony down the chimney. But I can't "I just want a pony," I said. "If you can't get the pony, don't give me anything, don't give it to me."

On Christmas Eve, I hang my socks with my sisters'.

The next morning, my sisters and I woke up at six. Then we rushed downstairs and came to the fireplace. Hey, there are all the gifts, all kinds of wonderful things, piles of gifts, mixed together. Only my socks are empty and hanging there limply. There is nothing in, under and around them-nothing. The sisters all knelt down, and everyone knelt beside their pile of gifts; They shouted and shouted happily until they looked up and saw me standing there, looking miserable. They came up to me and touched my socks: nothing.

I don't remember whether I cried or not, but my sisters cried. They ran back to my bed with me, and we cried together until my heart burst into anger. So, I feel much better. I stood up, got dressed, and drove all my sisters away from me. I walked out of the house alone and went to the stable, where I sobbed in a low voice. My mother came to me and tried to comfort me. But I don't need any comfort at all. She left me, cursed her father loudly and walked into the house.

My sisters came to me, but I was rude to them. I ran away from them. I went around to the front of the house and sat on the steps; After crying, I felt sad. After crying, I felt sad. I was wrong. I'm hurt. Father must feel a little sick, too. I saw him looking out of the window. For an hour or two, he probably kept an eye on my every move; He only opened the curtain a little for fear that I would find him, but I still saw his face. I think I can still see the worried look on his face, the worried and anxious look.

An hour or two later, I suddenly saw someone riding a pony across the street-a pony with a brand-new saddle, the most beautiful saddle I have ever seen, a little boy's saddle. And that pony! When the man approached the park, I saw that it was a real pony, with black mane, black tail, snow-white hocks and a white star on his forehead. If I can have such a horse, I am willing to pay any price.

The man rode all the way and looked at the house numbers from house to house, but when my hope-my impossible hope-rose in my heart, he looked at our door and walked past him-along with the pony and saddle. I can't take it anymore. I threw myself on the steps and burst into tears. Suddenly I heard a voice.

"Hey, little brother," said the voice. "Do you know a little boy named Lanny Stephens?"

I looked up. It turned out to be the man riding a pony. He came back.

"Yes," I said with tears, both flustered and excited. "That's me."

"Oh," he said. "So this is your horse. I've been looking for you everywhere, looking for your house. Why not hang the house number in a conspicuous place? "

"Come down," I said as I ran to him. I want to ride horses.

He continued, "I should be here at seven o'clock, but-"

I hardly listened to a word. I can't wait. I'm so excited and excited. I ride along the street. Such a beautiful pony. And it's mine! After a while, I turned the horse's head and urged it to run back to the stable. The whole family is here, father, mother and sister. They are all planning for me, and they are all in high spirits. They put all the equipment needed for my new business-horse combs, brushes, pitchforks-in order, and there was hay in the hay shed.

However, is the Christmas so carefully arranged by my father the best or the worst Christmas I have ever experienced in my life? He often asks me this question. I couldn't answer it when I was a child. Now, I think that Christmas was the best and the worst. Because on this day, first the heartbreaking pain, and then the extreme joy, from one extreme to the other-the change is too fast. Even adults, I'm afraid it's unbearable.