Ralphie’s Christmas Story

Ralphie had a big problem. Christmas was coming in just five days. He had picked his brother Randy's name for Secret Santa. And Ralphie had exactly zero dollars and zero cents. "What am I going to do?" Ralphie whispered to his stuffed bear, Mr. Buttons. His brother Randy was the best. Randy let Ralphie play with his toy cars - ZOOM ZOOM! Randy helped him build blanket forts that touched the ceiling. Randy even shared his cookies - sometimes. Ralphie wanted to give Randy the most perfect gift ever. But how? The Trading Plan. The next morning, Ralphie had a plan! "I'll trade something!" he announced to Mr. Buttons. He grabbed his second-favorite race car. It was shiny red with lightning bolts on the sides. He marched through the crunchy snow to his friend Emma's house. "Will you trade for a superhero toy?" Ralphie asked, holding up his car. "My brother Randy loves superheroes!" Emma shook her head. "I don't have superhero toys. I have a pink jump rope?" A pink jump rope wasn't right for Randy. Ralphie trudged home, his boots going squish-squish-squish in the snow. One plan down. "Don't worry," he told Mr. Buttons. "I'll think of something else!" The Drawing Plan That afternoon, Ralphie had another plan! "I'll make Randy a picture!" he decided. He got out every single crayon in his box. Twenty-four colors! He drew and drew and drew. He drew Randy as a superhero with a bright blue cape. He drew them building the biggest fort in the whole wide world. He used red and purple and green and orange. But when he finished, Ralphie's smile drooped. The superhero looked like a lumpy potato with arms. The fort looked like a brown blob. The cape looked like a weird banana. "Randy deserves better than potato-banana-blobs," Ralphie sighed. He crumpled up the paper - CRUNCH! Two plans down. "Maybe next time," whispered Mr. Buttons. (Or maybe that was just Ralphie's voice.) The Chore Plan. On Tuesday, Ralphie had his biggest plan yet! "I'll earn money doing chores!" he shouted. He zoomed around the house like a busy bee. He cleaned his room - well, he shoved things under his bed. Close enough! He folded towels - they looked like lumpy squares, but they were folded! He tried to wash dishes. But he could only reach the bottom ones. And he made SO MANY BUBBLES. They went everywhere - POOF! Mom came into the kitchen. Bubbles were on the floor. Bubbles were on the counter. Bubbles were in Ralphie's hair! But Mom just smiled. "Good effort, Ralphie. Here's two quarters for trying so hard." Ralphie looked at the coins in his hand. They went clink-clink. Fifty cents wasn't enough for anything at the store. His shoulders drooped down, down, down. Three plans down. Almost Christmas. Wednesday came. Then Thursday. Christmas was tomorrow! Ralphie sat on his bed, hugging Mr. Buttons tight. He had tried and tried and tried. But he had nothing - nothing! - for his brother. His eyes got hot and prickly. "What's wrong, little man?" Randy asked, poking his head into the room. "Nothing!" Ralphie said quickly, hiding his face in Mr. Buttons' fuzzy tummy. But Randy sat down next to him. Right close. "You can tell me." Ralphie's words tumbled out like toys from a toy box. "I got your name for Secret Santa and I tried to trade my race car and I tried to draw you as a superhero but you looked like a potato and I tried to do chores but I just made bubble mountains and I can't get you anything good and you're the BEST brother and I'm the WORST!" He said it all in one big breath. Randy wrapped his arm around Ralphie's shoulders. "You know what I really, really want?" Randy asked softly. Ralphie sniffled. "What?" "Remember last summer when you taught me that silly song about the dancing pickle?" Ralphie nodded. That song was pretty funny. "And remember last month when we built that super tall block tower and you made me laugh so hard I knocked it over - CRASH?" Ralphie smiled a tiny bit, remembering the blocks flying everywhere. "That stuff is my favorite," Randy said. "Not toys from stores. Not superhero stuff. You. Time with you. That's what makes me happy." Ralphie looked up at his brother. "Really?" "Really really really," Randy said, grinning. And suddenly, Ralphie had the best idea ever! Christmas Morning Christmas morning sparkled with snow and twinkling lights. At Secret Santa time, everyone gathered around the tree. The room smelled like cinnamon and pine trees. When it was Ralphie's turn, his hands shook - just a little tiny bit. He didn't have a wrapped box with a bow. He didn't have a shiny gift bag. He just had a folded piece of paper. Randy opened it super carefully, like it was made of snowflakes. It was a list in Ralphie's wiggly handwriting with a candy cane drawn at the top: "RALPHIE'S SPECIAL COUPONS FOR RANDY Good for: One pickle song whenever you want One block tower building (I promise not to make you laugh this time... maybe) One fort making day (we'll use ALL the blankets!) One cookie sharing - me sharing MY cookies with YOU One race car playing (you can use my favorite car) One best day ever - you pick EVERYTHING we do" Randy read it once. Then twice. Then one more time. His smile got bigger and bigger and BIGGER until it filled up his whole face. Then he jumped up and scooped Ralphie into the biggest, squeeziest hug in the entire world. He spun Ralphie around and around! "This is the BEST present I've ever gotten in my WHOLE LIFE!" Randy said. His voice sounded funny, like maybe he had happy-tears in his throat. "Really?" Ralphie asked, squeezing back. "Really really REALLY!" Randy said. "Because the best gift is time with my favorite brother in the whole universe!" Ralphie's heart felt warm and glowy, like he'd swallowed a little bit of sunshine. He didn't need money or perfect drawings or anything from a store. He had something way better. He had love to give. And time to share. And a brother who thought that was the most perfect gift of all. "Can we use the fort coupon today?" Randy asked, his eyes sparkling like Christmas lights. "Please please please?" "YES!" Ralphie shouted, jumping up and down. And they did. They used every single blanket in the house. They built a fort so big that Mom had to crawl to get inside. They put flashlights in it and read stories and ate crackers and laughed until their tummies hurt. It was the best Christmas ever - not because of what was under the tree, but because of who was beside it. And Mr. Buttons agreed. (Or maybe that was just Ralphie thinking it.) Either way, it was perfect.