THE OLD CHRISTMAS
by Sophia Morrison · from Manx Fairy Tales
Adapted Version
Long, long ago, there was a special day. It was called Old Christmas Day. On this day, no one worked. People did not spin. People did not make nets. It was a time for rest. This was a very old rule.
But one woman did not want to rest. Her name was Peggy. Peggy wanted to spin. She had much work to do. She called her young helper, Margad. "Margad, we will spin tonight," Peggy said. Margad felt a little afraid.
Peggy and Margad began to spin. They spun and spun. It was near midnight. Peggy watched her flax. It became very dark. It turned black. This was a strange thing. Margad's flax stayed white. Margad did nothing wrong.
Peggy felt scared. She dropped her black flax. She put her wheel away fast. Peggy went to her bed. Margad was alone now. She was in the kitchen.
Margad felt a little afraid. But she was also brave. She felt curious too. People told stories. They said magic things happen. They happen on this special night. Margad wanted to see.
Margad put on her warm cloak. She went outside. It was midnight. The air was cold. The moon was bright. She looked at the ground. Two small green shoots came up. They grew very fast. Leaves came. Flowers came. White flowers opened. They smelled very sweet.
Margad looked at the flowers. She picked one small white blossom. She kept it for luck. She held it tight.
Margad walked to the cowhouse. She looked inside. The young bullocks were there. They were on their knees. They made soft sounds. Sweat was on their bodies. This was a wonder.
Margad knelt down too. She said a small prayer. She prayed for the Holy Child. He was born in a stable.
Margad walked back to the house. She heard a soft sound. The bees were singing. They flew around their hive. They were inside again. Margad shut the door. It was quiet.
Margad always remembered this night. She always told her story. She told her neighbors. She knew the magic was real. She saw the magic herself! Special days are important. Margad kept her little white flower. She kept it all her life. It was a special gift.
Original Story
THE OLD CHRISTMAS
In the days of our grandmothers, Old Christmas Day, the fifth of January, was believed to be the true Christmas. On Black Thomas’s Eve, which was the first day of the Christmas holidays, the spinning wheels all had to be put away, the making of nets ceased, and no work of any kind must be done until after Twelfth Day.
But there was once an old woman named Peggy Shimmin, at Ballacooil, and she was bent on finishing some spinning that she had begun, so on Old Christmas Eve she said to herself:
‘The New Christmas is pas’ an’ surely it’s no wrong to do a bit o’ spinning to-night,’ though she doubted in her heart if she were not sinning. So when Himself and the rest were in bed, she called her young servant-girl, lil Margad, and said:
‘Margad, me an’ you will finish the spinning to-night.’ Margad was frightened, terrible, but she got out her wheel and sat beside her mistress. The two began to spin, and they were spinning and spinning till near midnight, and behold ye, just before midnight old Peggy saw the flax she was drawing from the distaff grow blacker and blacker till it was as black as tar. But Margad’s flax did not change colour because she had only done what her mistress bade her. Peggy dropped the flax quick, put away her wheel, and crept in fear to bed. She knew now which was the true Christmas Day and never more did she spin on Old Christmas Eve.
Margad was left alone in the kitchen when her mistress had gone to bed, and at first she was trembling with fright; but she was a middling brave girl, and she took a notion, as there was no person to stop her, to see if all the things were true that she had heard about Old Christmas Eve.
‘They’re saying,’ she thought, ‘that the bees are coming out, an’ the three-year-old bullocks going down on their knees, an’ the myrrh coming up in bloom.’ Then she says to herself:
‘I’m thinking I’ll go out an’ watch the myrrh.’ So she put a cloak round her and crept out at the door into the cold frosty moonlit night, and midnight had just struck as she put her foot outside. She stooped to look on the spot where the myrrh root was buried, and as she was looking, the earth began to stir and to crack, and soon two little green shoots pushed up to the air. She bent closer to see what would happen, and to her great wonder the leaves and stalks grew big and strong before her eyes, and then the buds began to show, and in a few minutes the lovely white flowers were in bloom and the garden was sweet with their fragrance. Margad could do nothing but stare at them at first, but at last she dared to gather one small piece of the blossom, and she kept it for luck all her life. Then she went to the cowhouse and peeped through the door. She heard a groaning sound and there were the young bullocks on their knees, moaning, and the sweat was dropping from them. Margad knelt down, too, and put up a bit of a prayer to the Holy Child that was born in a stall. But the wonders were not over yet, for as she went silently back to the house she noticed that the bees were singing and flying round the hive—they were inside again, when she shut the door of the house behind her.
Always after that, when the neighbours would ask her if she believed in the wonders of the Old Christmas Eve, she would say:
‘I know it’s true, for I’ve seen it myself.’
Story DNA
Moral
Disregarding sacred traditions can lead to negative consequences, while observing them can reveal profound wonders.
Plot Summary
On Old Christmas Eve, a time when work was forbidden, old Peggy Shimmin defies tradition by spinning, causing her flax to turn black as a sign of her sin. Her young servant, Margad, though initially fearful, ventures out at midnight to witness the traditional wonders of the night. She sees myrrh bloom instantly, bullocks kneel in prayer, and bees sing, confirming the sacredness of the Old Christmas. Margad keeps a piece of the myrrh for luck and forever after testifies to the truth of these wonders, having experienced them firsthand.
Themes
Emotional Arc
disobedience to fear to wonder and affirmation
Writing Style
Narrative Elements
Cultural Context
The story reflects the historical shift from the Julian to the Gregorian calendar, where 'Old Christmas' referred to the date Christmas would have fallen on the Julian calendar. It highlights the tension between old traditions and new customs.
Plot Beats (11)
- Traditional belief dictates that Old Christmas Day (Jan 5th) is the true Christmas, and all work is forbidden from Black Thomas's Eve until after Twelfth Day.
- Old Peggy Shimmin decides to defy this tradition and spin on Old Christmas Eve, convincing her young servant Margad to join her.
- As they spin near midnight, Peggy's flax turns black as tar, confirming her sinful act.
- Terrified, Peggy stops spinning and goes to bed, leaving Margad alone in the kitchen.
- Margad, though frightened, decides to investigate the traditional wonders said to occur on Old Christmas Eve.
- At midnight, Margad goes outside and witnesses the earth stirring, and two myrrh shoots quickly grow and bloom into fragrant white flowers before her eyes.
- Margad gathers a piece of the myrrh blossom for luck.
- She then goes to the cowhouse and sees the three-year-old bullocks on their knees, groaning.
- Margad kneels and offers a prayer.
- Returning to the house, she notices the bees singing and flying around their hive.
- From then on, Margad affirms the truth of Old Christmas Eve's wonders, having seen them herself.
Characters
Peggy Shimmin ◆ supporting
A short, stout elderly woman with the stooped shoulders of a lifetime of work. Her hands are gnarled from spinning and household chores. Her skin is weathered and lined from age and exposure to the elements.
Attire: She wears practical, dark wool or linen clothing typical of a Manx countrywoman of the late 19th/early 20th century. This would include a long, dark skirt, a simple blouse, and a plain apron, possibly a shawl draped over her shoulders for warmth in the cold house.
Wants: To finish her work and maintain her household's productivity, even if it means bending traditional rules.
Flaw: Her stubbornness and initial disregard for traditional beliefs, which leads her to a frightening encounter.
She begins as a skeptic who defies tradition but is quickly humbled and converted to a believer after a supernatural experience, vowing never to spin on Old Christmas Eve again.
Stubborn, practical, somewhat skeptical, fearful (when confronted with the supernatural), traditional (eventually).
Image Prompt & Upload
An elderly Manx woman with a round, deeply wrinkled face and thin, white hair pulled into a tight bun. She has a stooped posture and wears a dark, practical wool skirt, a simple linen blouse, and a plain dark apron. Her gnarled hands are positioned near a wooden spinning wheel, and the flax she is drawing from the distaff is unnaturally black. She has a look of dawning fear on her face. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Margad ★ protagonist
A slender young woman, likely of average height, with the clear complexion of youth. Her movements are nimble and quiet.
Attire: She wears simple, practical peasant clothing of the era: a long, plain linen or homespun cotton dress, possibly a darker wool apron over it, and sturdy, comfortable shoes. Her cloak for going outside would be a heavy, dark wool, perhaps with a hood.
Wants: Initially, to obey her mistress. Later, driven by curiosity to verify traditional beliefs about Old Christmas Eve.
Flaw: Her initial fear and timidity, though she overcomes it.
She begins as a fearful servant but transforms into a confident believer, having personally witnessed the sacred wonders of Old Christmas Eve, which solidifies her faith and gives her a unique perspective for life.
Frightened but brave, curious, observant, respectful of tradition, pious.
Image Prompt & Upload
A young Manx woman standing, facing forward, full body visible head to toe. She has a slender build, an oval face with wide, observant blue eyes, and light brown hair pulled back in a simple bun. She wears a plain, long linen dress, a dark wool apron, and a heavy, dark wool cloak draped over her shoulders. In one hand, she delicately holds a single, small white myrrh blossom. Her expression is one of quiet awe and wonder. Plain white background, full body visible head to toe, single figure, no watermark, no text, no signature.
Locations
Peggy Shimmin's Kitchen at Ballacooil
A rustic, dimly lit kitchen in a traditional Manx farmhouse (Thie-Vannin style), likely with a stone hearth, whitewashed walls, and exposed timber beams. The only light source would be a flickering candle or small oil lamp, casting long shadows. The air is cold, despite being indoors.
Mood: Tense, secretive, eerie, foreboding
Peggy and Margad secretly spin past midnight on Old Christmas Eve, and Peggy's flax turns black, revealing the true Christmas.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dimly lit, rustic Manx farmhouse kitchen at night. Rough-hewn timber beams cross a low ceiling, and whitewashed stone walls are visible. Two old wooden spinning wheels stand on a flagstone floor. A single flickering candle on a simple wooden table casts long, dancing shadows across the room, illuminating a distaff with flax that appears unnaturally dark. The air feels cold and still. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
Margad's Garden at Ballacooil
A small, frosty garden adjacent to the Manx farmhouse, bathed in bright moonlight. The ground is hard with frost, and the air is crisp and still. There's a specific spot where the myrrh root is buried.
Mood: Magical, wondrous, serene, cold
Margad witnesses the miraculous blooming of the myrrh at midnight on Old Christmas Eve.
Image Prompt & Upload
A small, frost-covered garden outside a traditional Manx farmhouse under a brilliant full moon at midnight. The ground is hard and sparkling with hoarfrost. In the center, the earth is visibly stirring and cracking, with two vibrant green shoots rapidly unfurling into large leaves and stalks. Delicate white myrrh blossoms, glowing faintly in the moonlight, burst open, filling the cold, crisp air. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.
The Cowhouse at Ballacooil
A simple, rustic cowhouse (byre) with wooden stalls and a dirt or straw-covered floor, typical of a Manx farm. It's dark inside, with only faint moonlight or starlight filtering through cracks, revealing the shapes of the kneeling bullocks.
Mood: Reverent, solemn, mysterious, humble
Margad witnesses the bullocks kneeling in reverence to the Holy Child.
Image Prompt & Upload
A dark, rustic Manx cowhouse interior at midnight. Simple wooden stalls line the sides, and the floor is covered in straw. Three-year-old bullocks are distinctly visible, kneeling on their forelegs, their heads bowed. Faint moonlight filters through gaps in the weathered wooden walls, casting soft, ethereal light on their forms. A sense of solemn reverence pervades the cold, still air. no border, no frame, no watermark, no text, no signature, edge-to-edge illustration.