Three Christmases: Cozy Bedtime Story To Relax

In tonight’s cozy story for sleep, settle into the warmth of a mountainside cabin oasis as snow gently falls outside with “Three Christmases." Relax by the fire as you tune in to the crackling sounds of an antique radio, where stories transport you seamlessly to three distinct holiday experiences. From the nostalgic charm of a 1962 New England village holiday festival to the simplicity of a 19th-century prairie gathering to a Tiki Christmas in Hawaii in 1955. The wintry wilderness outside the cabin serves as a serene backdrop as you cuddle with a beloved pet and let your imagination guide you to slumber. It’s time to dream away.

Transcript

Season's greetings,

My friends.

Are you ready for a holiday escape in tonight's cozy bedtime story for grown-ups?

As you settle into the plush warmth of a mountain chalet,

Nestled amidst snow-blanketed wilderness,

Darkness descends around you.

The crackling flames in the hearth cast a hypnotic dance and you revel in the cozy embrace of the season.

Turning on an old radio,

Your eyes made sleepy from the mesmerizing flicker,

Softly close as you eagerly await the tales to unfold.

The stories transport you through time and space,

Beginning with a Christmas festival in a seaside New England village,

Followed by a rustic Christmas on the prairie in the 19th century,

And finally a tropical escape for a tiki Christmas in Hawaii in 1955.

As the radio waves carry you on this enchanting journey,

Immerse yourself in the magic of each unique holiday setting.

It's time to dream away.

I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.

I am Michelle,

Your gentle guide for this wintry escape.

This is as much your sanctuary as it is mine.

Savor this sacred time for yourself.

Amid all the flurry of activities and feelings at this time of year may bring,

It's okay if the season is sometimes hard.

Tonight's journey will bring you to captivating Christmases far away from current times and events.

Take a few moments to relax and realign your body as you listen to my voice.

I am here to fully support you in finding peace and rest.

From a countdown of three,

I wish for you to let out the most relaxing sigh that you can in three,

Two,

One.

As you let out the air,

Make a sound and release your shoulders from your ears.

Find comfort in the sanctuary of your room and body.

As you sink into your bed,

Everything in this moment conspires to offer you love and support.

Prepare to now inhale slowly through your nose,

Imagining the air takes on your most welcomed aromas tied to the Christmas season,

Like an aromatic veil of pleasure.

These smells conjure warm,

Cozy feelings deep within.

They invite you to yawn and get even comfier before you sigh and once more let go of anything that gets in the way of your escape into bliss.

One last time,

At the pace that resonates most with you,

I invite you to inhale deeply,

Filling up with cleansing winter air that carries the hint of fresh snow.

Your lungs expand like a hand-blown glass bauble.

Claim all the space you rightfully deserve and then exhale in one final sigh of surrender,

Setting the intention to embrace every moment of splendor and cast away any interruptions.

In this easy,

Dreamy state of mind,

It's time for tonight's tale to unfold.

The howling winds create sparkling white spirals of snow that take to the air like fairy dust,

Nestled alongside a roaring fire with a beloved pet curled at your feet.

You watch the wintry landscape outside the wall of windows of the chalet.

The pointed silhouette of purple-black snow-capped mountains appears beyond the tree line of pine,

Cedar,

And spruce.

Sparkling ivory snow glistens,

Having melted during the day to refreeze during the early sunset of late December.

Icicles dangle from the A-frame roof,

Dripping as long as your arm to frame the wintry wilderness outside.

They reflect and multiply the rainbow glow of Christmas lights that line the perimeter of the cabin.

The evergreen trees nearest to the cabin are dripping in an array of holiday lights that take us through the eras.

Some are blue and white,

Others are golden,

And some are vintage colored lights with bulbs so big they could fill the palm of your hand.

You sigh in tandem with your pet,

So grateful to be satiated by an early winter meal and filled to a level of contentment by a steamy drink you enjoy by the fire.

The crackles and pops of the dry wood taking flight of the flue in orange-gold sparks join the sound layers of the wind,

Drifting snow,

And rustling branches.

You inhale deeply,

Taking in the aroma of peppery wood smoke,

The aged log walls of the cabin,

And boughs of pine and spruce that adorn this mountain getaway.

Snowed in for the night,

You relish the excuse to do nothing but lounge about and get lost in a reverie.

You rise from your favorite place to snuggle and walk to an antique radio the size of a piece of furniture.

You place your hand on the power knob,

Smoothed and worn by time and use,

And feel it click on,

Whispering static fills the cabin.

As your hand moves to another dial to find a station,

Not many stations may be picked up in this remote mountain escape,

And you catch a muted and unclear rendition of a popular holiday tune.

Then suddenly,

Clear as a bell,

The voice of a radio DJ fills the air with his charismatic,

Booming delivery.

The voice causes your pet's ears to perk as they rise out of a sleepy haze to listen,

Adjusting the volume to mix perfectly with the wintry soundscape of the cabin.

You settle back into the warm spot you left and wrap yourself in a velvety soft blanket.

As candlelight and firelight cast the room in a honeyed glow,

And as the holiday lights outdoors shine into the cabin,

You get carried away by the DJ's voice.

He beckons you to take the journey many once did,

Long before television sets and smartphones.

Souls would gather in the darkness of winter to take in the stories told on the radio,

Filling in all the delightful details with their imagination.

You sink your head into a ruby red velvet pillow and prop your feet up with your eyes closed.

You are ready for the choose-your-own-adventure narrative of the Christmas stories that unfold and become one-way tickets through time and space.

As you hover above consciousness,

Guided by the radio host's voice that becomes a bit fuzzy as it crackles through the speakers,

You find yourself transported to a Christmas festival in New England in 1962.

You stroll along Bay Street,

Where saltbox homes with shake siding showcase rainbow holiday lights and festive trees within their elegant parlors.

The rugged forms of lobster boats soften in the glow of red and green holiday lights and line the sparkling ebony water of the marina.

A mist rises gracefully from the water,

Enveloping the vessels like a shroud of Christmas magic.

As you step onto the wooden wharf,

Icy patches mirror the colorful lights,

Doubling their beauty beneath your every step while also indicating where to proceed with caution.

Small children in attendance run fearlessly around you in their earth-toned knickers and dresses and wool pea coats.

They merely giggle and slide when their boots touch upon the ice.

It's easy to be so fearless when there's not far to fall.

The air is filled with the rich scents of the season.

Hot chowder simmering in large cauldrons,

Fragrant cider swirling in mugs and the tantalizing aroma of caramel popcorn and apples being freshly crafted at rustic wooden stands draped in metallic garland and holly berries.

The village is bustling this time of year as locals engage in centuries-old celebrations and visitors from near and far connect with the salty air and seafaring history that reverberates from every detail of the village.

You can't help but be taken by the charm of the fashion of the time.

The Christmas Festival offers a chance for everyone to dress and look their best.

Women flaunt coiffed hairdos and beehives from the beauty parlor,

A dedication that leads them to spend nights nestled in armchairs in pursuit of preserving their looks throughout the festive season.

Meanwhile,

You don a heavy pea coat,

A scarlet scarf wrapping you in warmth,

And a classy hat reserved solely for the holidays.

You feel radiant and alive as you take in the dozens of stories unfolding around you.

Mistletoe hangs delicately from a white trellis dripping with ivy,

A whimsical tradition embraced by a married couple who share a tender kiss beneath its bows.

Their three children's faces twisted in theatrical disgust protest with groans,

Their cries ringing with the innocence of the season.

Nearby,

Young teens shyly gather around the mistletoe-laden trellis,

Sipping cocoa and sharing glances,

Hoping to summon the courage to steal a kiss before the festive foliage.

For some,

It may be the night of their first kiss.

As you continue your exploration,

Carolers dressed in Dickensian-era attire form a harmonious assembly around the village's Christmas tree.

The eight souls grasp candles that illuminate the rich reds,

Blues,

Golds,

And emerald greens that accent their velvet gowns,

Suits,

And furry muffs.

A touch of Victorian enchantment permeates the village square.

The tree is dressed with donated ornaments,

Hand-painted by volunteers and school children.

The tree stands as a symbol of community spirit and the enduring artistic spirit of the village,

With a lane lined with art studios and galleries that replicate the maritime beauty and changing of seasons.

With watercolors and oil paint,

It's no surprise the tree rises from the cobblestone like an evergreen gallery wall itself.

The air is filled with the timeless melodies of carols weaving through the village like threads of nostalgia,

Bringing all together in the enchantment of the holiday season.

Amidst the festive whirl of the New England Postal Village,

You find yourself drawn to the historic bookshop.

Perched near the edge of the wharf,

Children joyously pose with Santa on the front porch.

While some kids' faces are alight with anticipation and wonder,

The younger tykes stifle their fears and put on a brave face.

Inside the shop,

In the glow of candles in sconces,

Rows of wooden chairs form an audience of souls in hushed excitement,

Experiencing a live reading of a Christmas carol.

The salty,

Misty air creates a heady feeling as large snowflakes begin to slowly fall around,

Melting on the cobblestone path while maintaining a strong presence as they land on your coat.

Curiosity guides you from one celebration to the next,

And as you pass by the community center,

The energy of revelers is the least subdued.

Ornate and gaudy decorations adorn the wood-paneled lobby.

Aluminum trees cast a dazzling display of holiday spirit as illuminated color wheels spin below them.

Through the windows,

You glimpse attendees toasting coupe glasses,

Their laughter and the infectious rhythm of dance that causes you to smile.

From white-haired couples in their finest tailored silk gowns and wool suits to young newlyweds in the latest styles,

Romance shines from the decorated hall,

Warming the damp chill in the air.

And when you have taken in all the stories and energy from others that you can,

You find yourself drawn to the quietude of the snow-dusted rocky beach.

Snow falls around you as the water laps against the dark,

Jagged coastline.

The Atlantic breeze carries with it the crisp scent of the sea and clean snow.

And beyond the dark,

Reflective waters,

You take in the sparkling lighthouse with its broad red and white stripes wrapped in golden holiday lights.

A sense of tranquility washes over you.

Clouds of condensation billow with each with each exhale,

The wintry air punctuated by the soft crunch of snow-covered stones beneath your feet.

Near the water's edge,

You gaze into the calm,

Silky waves.

Your reflection mirrors the Christmas merriment that fills your heart with a nostalgic sigh.

You leave the coastal enchantment of New England behind,

Transported through time and space to the snowy prairies of the 1880s,

Where a new chapter of holiday magic awaits.

Under the vast expanse of the clear prairie sky,

In 1887,

You find yourself astride a horse.

The air is dry,

The temperature so cold it freezes the smell of the rolling meadows,

Where deep beneath the frozen ground,

Everything is at rest.

Your equine partner walks confidently,

Yet very much aware of the icy patches along the way.

In the distance,

A homestead emerges,

A flicker of golden warmth against the wintry canvas.

Fellow prairie members gather beneath the starry sky,

Their breath freezing in the frigid air.

Never before has the sky seemed so grand and large,

As the snow-coated prairie rolls on like gentle ocean waves.

A fiddler sets the tone,

His lively tunes weaving through the night,

Echoing through the cold air,

And leading you to the gathering.

Dogs and children run in carefree circles around the crackling bonfire,

Their laughter mingling with the music.

Snow lands gently on the bonnets and wide-brimmed hats of the adults,

As tin cups clink in merriment.

It's a simple time,

Where the joy of the season is found in shared company,

And the warmth of a communal fire.

A distant wolf howls,

Its cry becoming a haunting melody that joins the festive songs of the homesteaders,

Who were all led by fierce independence and the desire to build something that truly belonged to them.

You stay away from the fire for a moment,

To take in the purity of the Christmas gathering.

The fiddler stops,

And everyone stops dancing,

To engage in a gift exchange.

It would be a bit warmer to do so inside,

But the one-room cabins haven't the room for everyone to comfortably gather and celebrate.

Gifts wrapped in burlap,

With cherished wide bands of red and green ribbons,

Ribbons that are as much a part of the gift as the items contained,

Are exchanged before you.

Each simple item is cherished for the love and effort put into its creation.

A few yards of fabric from the country store,

Handmade beeswax candles and soaps,

And jars of canned strawberry jam and honey from the summer months,

Are some of the most adored treasures.

They bring smiles of overjoyed gratitude,

There's a collective sense of pride,

As everyone shares something they crafted with their own hands.

Representing a part of prairie life,

You disembark from your horse and are welcomed by these pioneers.

With a level of warmth and love found in lifelong friendships,

The kinship of being here and surviving creates a tangible bond that can be felt in the hearty handshakes and tight hugs,

As well as in the wells of warmth that radiate through your heart as you join them.

Another neighbor arrives by horse,

Offering to bring both of your beloved animals to the barn for the night.

You join in a dance as the music resumes,

And the smallest yet mightiest of the children teaches you the moves,

Buoyantly hopping from one foot to the other.

You do your best,

Feeling the strength in your calves and thighs,

Surprising even yourself with the agility you feel on this frigid night.

In the throes of contentment,

All physical discomforts are cast away,

For there is only room for vitality tonight.

As clouds roll in,

A snowstorm blankets the rolling meadows and frozen stream in fresh snow.

The howling winds pick up,

Causing the fire to retreat in submission to the forces of winter.

You all say goodnight and Merry Christmas in loving tones,

And then you retreat to a rustic,

Single-room log cabin,

Grabbing a stack of logs from the woodshed along the way.

Once inside the intimate quarters,

You light a candle and kindle a fire that quickly warms the small space.

Perched on the firm mattress of a log-framed bed,

You peer out the window onto the silent,

Magical night.

You feel a sense of peace and gratitude for the simplicity of the prairie life,

And as you trace the frost crystals that appear on the cold glass window,

You are transported once more.

You find yourself on the shores of Oahu for a tiki Christmas,

Where the air is filled with the sweet,

Fragrant notes of plumeria.

You walk a narrow path that winds around palm trees dressed in twinkling lights,

As glittery as the stars over the Pacific.

The islands in 1955 have yet to be fully developed and are free of high-rises to offer the kind of quiet paradise everyone seeks at some time.

The path provides views of the crystalline,

Turquoise,

Crashing waves that become more majestic and tempting to daredevil surfers in the winter months.

Even in the dark of night,

The aquamarine waves appear transparent before their misty,

White crests.

Led by moonlight,

You see the amber flickering of torches outside a beachside tiki bar.

The warm,

Balmy air kisses your face with gentle affection as your linen attire billows with a grace of susurrating palm fronds.

Everything feels lighthearted and carefree as you walk by an oceanside pool to join the festivities.

Red and green paper lanterns are strung across a lanai with ceramic pots resembling totems overflowing with deep red poinsettias.

You arrive at the bamboo bar just as the ukulele plays the chords of Melikalikimaka.

Attendees sing along with the lead singer who stands behind the mic.

Of all the scenes brought to you through these Christmas chronicles,

The natural beauty of the island at this time in history creates a yearning to honor the land and for things to remain like this.

Frozen in time,

The crashing waves,

The dulcet tones of the band,

And the joyous laughter and conversations merge into a symphony of Christmas splendor.

The bartender in his blue floral Hawaiian shirt works with graceful speed,

Popping paper umbrellas in holiday hues,

Pineapple wedges,

And maraschino cherries into tiki mugs brimming with fruity concoctions.

He delivers your drink to you and the flavors of coconut cream and pineapple linger on your tongue as your throat is soothed by the icy treat,

The only ice to be found in this tropical escape.

Your eyes are drawn to the vibrant colors and tropical floral patterns of the dresses and shirts worn by the band and revelers.

Everything seems to mimic the natural beauty and colors of the island.

Leis are distributed under the moonlit canopy,

And the soft glow of flickering tiki torches.

Someone places one around your head,

And the lush silky petals sweep against your neck as they settle on your chest and heart.

The air is saturated with a heady fragrance of exotic flowers,

Plumeria,

Hibiscus,

And orchids,

Creating an olfactory journey that amplifies the holiday spirit with island flair.

Christmas lights strung artfully around palm trees cast a kaleidoscope of hues on the guests.

The dance floor becomes an oasis of motion,

Couples swaying with the grace of the trade winds.

Around you,

Conversations blend into a harmonious hum where fragrance of conversations and music reveal stories of the island and deep reverence for this sacred place.

People from various backgrounds come together,

Celebrating the season with a shared sense of joy and camaraderie,

Bringing a different cast to the holiday.

The spirit of Aloha infuses the gathering,

Fostering a sense of unity that transcends differences and brings everyone together in the spirit of celebration.

Yet even amidst the sense of community,

You cannot help but gaze beyond the festivities at the vast Pacific Ocean.

With wonder,

The heavenly sky stretches endlessly as the twinkling stars keep their glittery pace with the crashing waves,

Making you keenly aware of the island's remoteness and the big world beyond this festive gathering.

And as you are brimming with appreciation and delight,

You find yourself back in the comforts of the mountainside cabin.

The flame-engulfed logs have burned into lava-hued embers.

The radio host's voice is replaced with a holiday tune that slowly fades into silence as the connection is lost.

And you are left to wonder if the radio waves led you through these heartwarming scenarios or if they were all the product of your sleepy mind.

You rise and turn off the console,

Hearing a soft thud as it powers down.

Your pet rises to follow you into the most comfortable bedroom you have ever imagined.

In moments,

You find yourself tucked in with your furry companion,

Listening as the wind howls outside and snow lands on the skylights and you give in to the vivid scenes that await in your dreams,

Finding comfort,

Finding appreciation,

Finding connection,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Reviews

Michelle , l absolutely love 💕 your stories! Having Christmas as the theme makes it even more special! The way you pay attention to great nostalgic detail brings back so many warm memories from when I was a child in the 50’s. Thank you kindly for this amazing bedtime story! I definitely have to listen again to get to the end! Wishing you and your loved ones a Merry Christmas & a healthy 2024!🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗