Daisy's Christmas!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Children Stories  |  House: Booksie Classic
about a young orphan who gets no presents for christmas and has no friends. Someone steps up and donates the money so she does!!!

Submitted: March 04, 2012

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Submitted: March 04, 2012




By: Amanda Rychtik

You know how you always get presents on Christmas? Well, what if you didn’t? Here’s a story about a girl who didn’t get presents.

In 1986 there was a little girl and her name was Daisy. This particular little girl didn’t want Christmas to come. One, she was orphan and she never got to play with anyone or get any presents, and it was the day her mother died four years ago. This little girl was two years old when her mother passed away. Now, she is currently six.  It seems like someone could get over the passing of her mother four years ago, but it was hard for her. Her mother had died in 1982 from influenza. It was a painful and horrible death. Her mother had only been of the age 27, but Daisy was the one and only person her mother had loved. This family of two lived on the side of a street called Crisma. This was short for Christmas. Daisy’s mom had died on the side of that street, leaving her baby there. Eventually someone took the baby, who was really Daisy, to the orphanage. Daisy had been in the orphanage for four years now. This orphanage was rather poor and all of the massively rich people would not donate one penny to this orphanage for as long as it has existed. Therefore, none of the kids in this orphanage got presents on Christmas.

It was merely two weeks away from Christmas Day. Daisy always wished that she could be able to play with a girl her age from the outside. So she always went to sit in the back of the orphanage where the garbage was. She always went to go sit out there because she didn’t have many friends, and that was the only place that she got away and have some peace and quiet. No one knew where she was when she was supposed to inside and nor did anyone care where she was, so they just let her be. It was Sunday, December 11th, 1986, when she saw another little girl skipping past her. The girl was almost past her when Daisy sneezed, and the little girl stopped and looked her way. Daisy didn’t know what to do; it was obviously one of the rich girls in town.

This girl’s name was Rose. She had beautiful light blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a wonderful smile. She wasn’t poor, and she wasn’t rich. Her family was somewhere in-between. But, they had plenty of money to get by. So she didn’t have all of the fancy dresses that all the other little girls had. Rose had normal everyday clothes. This was a pair of boot-cut pants, a warm sweater, and white socks with black shoes. Rose was always wishing for a new friend that she could play with. Rose had both her mother and her father living with her in one home, and she also had one older brother Jack.

Rose walked over to the fence and asked what Daisy’s name was. Daisy stuttered, “D-D-Daisy.” As soon as Rose had heard that, she was dumfounded that she was also named after a flower. Then Daisy got off the sack of papers she was sitting on and walked over to the fence and asked the girl what her name was.

The girl answered with such a pretty voice, “Rose Feather.”

 Daisy asked what the Feather was for?

Rose said, “This is my last name? What’s yours”

Daisy said, “I have no last name.”

The girls kept on talking until Ms. Mocker, the manager of the orphanage, called her in for dinner. Daisy ate her dinner and went into her bed and thought about that girl she had met. The next day she did the same thing.

 It was getting closer and closer to Christmas. There were only four days away from the holiday, when Rose saw Daisy sitting on the sack and she was crying.

Rose stopped and asked her, “What was wrong?”

Daisy said, “Nothing.”

Then Rose said, “Really Daisy, what’s wrong?”

“Okay I’ll tell you but you have to keep it a secret. Well my mom died on Christmas Day four years ago, and we never get any presents here, but you do!”

 “Well,” Rose said, “I will ask my dad if he will donate presents for all of the kids here including you, I will also ask him to donate money for more food for you also!”

 “WOW! Thanks,” said Daisy.

“Yep no problem.”

“Oh and can I call you Rosy?”

“Yes for sure!”

Rosy walked home and went to go tell her older brother all about her day and meeting Daisy. She even told him about the idea of having their dad donate the toys and the money for the orphanage. But she never got to telling her dad about this idea; she just kept it to herself and her brother. From now on; Rose always went to the little girl at the orphanage and gave her a piece of bread and cheese everyday, because Rose thought Daisy was too skinny and when Rose started to talk to Daisy her tummy would grumble. So Rose thought it would stop Daisy’s tummy from grumbling.

It was now about three days till Christmas when the first snow began to fall. The girls in the orphanage were not prepared for it to snow yet, so all the little girls stayed inside, except Daisy. Daisy still went outside everyday and waited for Rosy to come outside. When Rose came along she saw that Daisy had no coat and went back home to get her one. Daisy was very thankful for that coat so she gave Rose a hug and went back inside to hide it from the other girls and Ms. Mocker.

There were now two days until Christmas. Rose had a wonderful idea that could get all the girls in the orphanage presents and coats. SO….. At Rose’s school her family held a fundraiser. At first none of the girls donated any money, but once people started to donate, the other families did and they had enough money!


It was now Christmas day and Rosy and her dad came along with tons of presents, money, and coats for all the girls in the orphanage. Daisy was so thankful and was really good friends with Rosy. Rosie’s dad eventually adopted her into the family. So now they were sisters for ever.

Every Christmas after that, different families held the fundraiser and gave the girls presents and coats.

© Copyright 2018 swimmer34. All rights reserved.

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