When the Quiet Arrives: A Christmas Day Meant to Be Felt, Not Just Celebrated

“When the Quiet Arrives: A Christmas Day Meant to Be Felt, Not Just Celebrated”

By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2025 

2–3 minutes

Christmas Day arrives not with the roar of celebration. Instead, it comes with something softer — a quiet that settles into the corners of our homes. It feels like a memory we haven’t revisited in years. The rush is gone. The wrapping paper has been tamed. Even the dogs, sensing the unusual calm, take their morning patrol with a little more dignity than usual.

For many, Christmas is loud. It is laughter ricocheting off the walls. Kids tear into gifts with a speed that should qualify as a competitive sport. Kitchens hum like tiny factories. But for others, Christmas unfolds differently. It is a day of gentle reflection. The heart revisits people who can’t sit at our table anymore. It also revisits places we carry quietly inside us.

On Christmas Day, the world slows just long enough. We remember what truly matters, including the people, the memories, and the grace that carried us here.

This year, Christmas seems to be asking something new of us. Not to act, not to impress, not to outdo last year’s festivities — but simply to exist. To look around at what we already have, rather than everything we think we’re missing. To notice the warmth in the room. Feel the softness of a familiar voice. Experience how a simple cup of coffee somehow tastes better when shared with someone you love.

People across the world are celebrating in a thousand different ways. Some celebrate with grandeur. Some celebrate with grief. Others celebrate with gratitude. Some hold onto just a sliver of hope they’re trying hard to keep. But Christmas, in its truest form, honors all of these experiences. It is not a single story. It is the stitching together of many. It includes the joyful and the healing. It includes the lonely trying to feel less alone. It also includes the families trying to reclaim a little peace after a long year.

And that’s the quiet miracle of Christmas Day 2025. It reminds us that the heart’s greatest gifts don’t fit under trees. They aren’t bought, wrapped, or returned. They come in moments — unexpected, unpolished, and unforgettable. A hand held. A memory honored. A breath taken in gratitude for having made it this far.

Your home can be filled with the noise of celebration. It can also be surrounded by the stillness of reflection. This Christmas Day let the season bring you what you need most. It is a reminder that you are part of a larger story. You are carried by love, by time, and by the simple hope that tomorrow will shine a little brighter. There is relief knowing that Santa didn’t run out of gas. He also didn’t run out of magic during the 2025 Christmas Holiday Season. But it came mighty close!


By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2025 

O’Tis Is Christmas!

By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2025 

1–2 minutes
“Otis”

“OTIS”

A time for joy and cheer,

For friends and family gathered

Through each and every year.

O’tis is Christmas—

We’re grateful, through and through,

For all the love and laughter

That we have shared with you.


By Benjamin GroffMedia© | benandsteve.com | ©2025 

Have a Merry Christmas, A Cool Yule, Feliz Navidad. Celebrate all of the feasts and festival days around Christmas and holiday season. While other countries the only holidays included in the “season” are Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, St. Stephen’s Day/Boxing Day, New Year’s Eve, New Year’s Day and Epiphany, in recent times, this term in the U.S. began to expand to include YuleHanukkahKwanzaaThanksgivingBlack Friday and Cyber Monday. So We have come to say Merry Holidays and Happy Christmas, or if it pleases you Merry Everything!

Santa’s Ride Through the Deep West

This story is pulled from the archives as a celebration for the season edition.

Santa Claus Goes Horseback Riding To Deliver Gifts Deep In The Heart Of The West!

Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

3–4 minutes

It was Christmas Eve, and the moon cast a silvery glow over the rugged terrain of the American West. Santa Claus stood at the edge of a vast canyon. He stroked his thick white beard as he surveyed the land below. The snow drifts piled high, blanketing the valleys, draws, and washes, creating a breathtaking and treacherous scene. His sleigh and reindeer had brought him far, but this terrain was no place for flying. The jagged canyon walls and towering evergreens made it impossible for his magical team to navigate.

Santa turned to a figure waiting patiently in the moonlight: a sturdy chestnut stallion saddled with a well-worn western saddle. The horse, named Thunder, had been his trusted companion for these trips into the Deep West for hundreds of years. He patted Thunder’s neck affectionately.

Looks like it’s up to us again, old friend,”

Santa said.

He swapped his sleigh for the horse, securing the large sack of gifts over Thunder’s haunches. As he mounted, the jingling of bells on his coat mingled with the creak of leather. He clicked his tongue. They were off. The sound of hooves crunching through snow echoed into the quiet night.

The descent into the canyon was steep, and the trail was narrow and winding. Santa guided Thunder with practiced ease, his red coat standing out against the stark white snow. They crossed frozen creeks, forded icy streams, and climbed rocky outcrops that tested Thunder’s strength and agility.

The air was warmer but still crisp when they reached the valley floor. Santa paused to check his list, illuminated by a soft, magical glow. The Wilson-Anderson family ranch was just a few miles away, nestled among the rolling hills and cottonwood trees.

This family had been here for generations, raising cattle and carrying on the traditions of the American West. Santa always made a special effort to visit their remote ranch, knowing life’s challenges in such a rugged land.

The silhouette of the homestead came into view as they approached the ranch. Its windows glowed warmly in the cold night. Santa dismounted and led Thunder to the barn, leaving the horse to rest and nibble on hay.

Quietly, Santa crept to the house. He climbed onto the porch and found the door unlocked, as was common in these parts. Inside, the living room had simple yet heartfelt decorations. There was a cedar wreath and a small tree decorated with handmade ornaments. Stockings hung above a wood-burning stove.

Santa set to work. He filled the stockings with treats and small trinkets. Then he placed a beautifully wrapped gift for each family member under the tree. Santa left a fine leather rope for the youngest, Jesse. A tiny cowboy hat was also there because Jesse had asked for a lasso.

Before leaving, Santa took a moment to admire the scene. The family dog, a blue heeler, stirred from its bed by the fire. Recognizing the kind man, it wagged its tail and drifted back to sleep.

For Santa Claus, this was more than just delivering gifts. It was a tribute to the resilience of the families. These families carved out lives in the harsh beauty of the deep West. As he rode into the night, he hummed a cowboy tune. He felt grateful for the chance to be part of their enduring story. It was magical, even for one night each year.

Santa returned to the barn, where Thunder waited patiently. With a final glance at the peaceful ranch, he mounted his horse and began the journey back. The moon was high, and the stars sparkled like diamonds as they retraced their path through the snow-filled wilderness.

Santa’s Time-Warped Christmas

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It Is Only Six Days Until Christmas Eve!

This story is pulled from the archives as a celebration for the season edition.

Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

3–4 minutes

As Santa Claus guided his sleigh over the North Pole, the stars shimmered brighter than ever. It was Christmas Eve, and his magic sleigh, loaded with gifts for children worldwide, zipped through the frosty air. But something strange happened as he crossed a shimmering aurora—an inexplicable jolt rattled the sleigh.

“Dasher, what was that?”

Santa muttered, steadying his hold on the reins. The reindeer snorted in reply, uneasy.

The aurora enveloped him before he gathered his thoughts, and time seemed to twist and fold around him. When the light dissipated, the world below him was not the one he knew. Snow-covered cottages and horse-drawn carriages replaced the bustling cities of 2024.

Santa realized he had been thrown back in time to the mid-1800s. He recognized the period instantly from the distinct architecture of a village below. It was a Christmas during a dark chapter in history. A devastating plague had gripped the land. It forced him to cancel his rounds that year.

“Great gumdrops!”

Santa exclaimed.

“What are the odds?”

He gazed at the sleigh’s cargo. By a twist of fate, it had been stocked with emergency medical supplies. These were intended for a charity hospital in the modern era. Among the crates were antibiotics, syringes, and boxes of penicillin.

As he landed his sleigh in the village square, the grim reality of the situation became clear. Emaciated villagers huddled near fires, their coughs echoing through the silent night. Santa’s heart ached as he walked among them, his red suit standing out against the bleak surroundings.

A child approached him, her face pale and gaunt.

“Who are you?”

She asked, her voice weak.

Santa knelt, his jolly demeanor softening.

“I’m Santa Claus, my dear. And I’ve brought –– hope.”

He opened a crate, revealing the miracle medicines of the future. Doctors, initially skeptical, were astonished by how quickly the penicillin began to heal their sickest patients. Word spread, and soon, Santa was inundated with requests for help.

But as he worked tirelessly through the night, a troubling thought weighed heavily on him. He altered the course of history by introducing modern medicine to the past. He remembered the first rule of time travel: do not interfere. Yet how he stand by and let so many suffer?

Santa consulted his reindeer, who were no strangers to magical predicaments.

“What do you think, Comet? If we save them now, what happens to the future?”

Comet stamped his hoof thoughtfully as if to say,

The heart often knows what the mind can’t reason.

Santa decided to take the risk.

“If kindness is a mistake, then I’ll gladly make it,”

He said aloud.

By dawn, the village was transformed. People sang carols, their strength returning. They looked at Santa with gratitude and wonder as he prepared to leave.

“Thank you, sir,”

said the village doctor.

“You’ve given us a miracle.”

Santa nodded, but his heart was heavy with uncertainty. As he guided the sleigh back into the sky, the aurora reappeared, pulling him back to his own time.

When he returned to the North Pole, he checked the world’s records, bracing for the consequences of his actions. To his amazement, the plague of the 1800s had been recorded as miraculously subsiding in one particular region. Yet, history did not explain this occurrence. Furthermore, the trajectory of medicine had advanced more quickly than he remembered. The saved lives gave rise to several key figures. These figures contributed significantly to society.

Santa smiled, chuckling saying,

“History has a way of balancing itself after all.”

Santa pondered the night’s events on Christmas Eve as he settled into his chair by the fire. Sometimes, he thought, doing the right thing means accepting the unknown. In the spirit of Christmas, a little magic can change the world for the better. A lot of kindness can also make a difference, no matter the time.

The Christmas Eve Babbs Switch School Fire

This story is pulled from the archives as a celebration for the season edition.

Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

3–5 minutes

Every year at this time, I am reminded of a harrowing story. It is deeply etched into Oklahoma’s collective memory: the Babbs Switch School Fire of Christmas Eve, 1924. It stands as a tragic lesson in safety, humanity, and resilience.

The Fire

On that bitterly cold night, with heavy snow and sub-zero temperatures, 200 residents gathered. They met in Babbs Switch’s one-room schoolhouse for a Christmas Eve program. The school was tightly packed with engaged couples, grandparents, mothers, fathers, and children. The building’s windows were secured with wire mesh to deter intruders from the nearby railroad tracks. The sole exit—a door that opened inward—would soon become a deadly trap.

The program concluded with a teenage boy dressed as Santa Claus. He handed out toys and candy beneath a cedar Christmas tree. The tree was decorated with paper, tinsel, and lit candles. One of these candles brushed against the tree’s dry needles, igniting it instantly. Mrs. W.G. Boland, whose three children perished that night, later recounted the horror. 

“I tried to beat it out with a paper sack,”

she said, 

“but it did no good.” 

Initially, the crowd laughed, believing the small blaze was being contained. But within moments, the flames engulfed the tree, the ceiling, and the entire structure.

Panic erupted.

The sole exit became a bottleneck as the crowd surged toward the door. Those at the back pushed forward, while the unlucky at the front got crushed in the chaos. Some attempted to pry open the wired windows, but their efforts were futile. Trapped inside, children, parents, and neighbors succumbed to the smoke and flames. Witnesses recalled the horrifying scene of people clawing at the exit. Bodies piled atop one another, and the acrid stench of burning flesh.

The Survivors

Among those who escaped was Lillie Biggers. She crawled out from under a desk clutching a doll she had just received. Her mother, Margaret, managed to get out but suffered severe burns to her hands and arms. Tragically, Lillie’s brothers, William, 9, and Walter, 15, did not survive. The Biggers family’s grief mirrored that of the entire community, where 36 lives were lost—half of them children. The belongings later identified the bodies of William and Walter. They carried a toy gun and a belt buckle.

The injured and deceased were transported to Hobart, the nearest town, where makeshift morgues were set up. The community’s response, known as the “Hobart Spirit,” saw residents drop everything to give aid and comfort. Newspaper accounts likened this effort to the Oklahoma Standard that emerged decades later after the Oklahoma City bombing.

Julie Braun with Mother
Lillie’s Doll That Survived Fire

The Aftermath

The tragedy prompted a wave of reforms. Oklahoma legislators enacted fire safety laws requiring outward-opening doors, multiple exits, and accessible window screens in schools. Open flames were banned, and fire extinguishers became mandatory. The reforms eventually spread nationwide, though it would take more tragedies before they were fully adopted.

The morning after the Babbs Switch School Fire

A Missing Child

The story took a strange twist that turned it into a lingering mystery. Among the victims was three-year-old Mary Edens—or so it was believed. Her aunt, Alice Noah, escaped the building. She died days later. She claimed she had handed Mary to an unknown person outside the burning building. Mary’s body was never recovered, leading her family to hope she had survived.

In 1957, decades after the fire, a woman named Grace Reynolds came forth. She was from Barstow, California. She claimed to be the long-lost Mary. The Edens family reunited with her on Art Linkletter’s House Party television program, believing their prayers had been answered. Reynolds even wrote a book about her experiences. It is titled Mary, Child of Tragedy: The Story of the Lost Child of the 1924 Babbs Switch Fire.

But only some were convinced. A local newspaper editor who investigated the claim questioned its validity. 

Skeptics noted inconsistencies in Reynolds’s story, but no definitive evidence confirmed or debunked her identity. To this day, the truth remains elusive.

Legacy

The Babbs Switch School Fire is remembered as one of the deadliest school fires in U.S. history. A stone monument now stands where the schoolhouse once stood, a quiet marker of lives lost and lessons learned. The physical scars of the tragedy have faded. Yet, its memory endures. It serves as a poignant reminder of the fragility of life and our enduring hope for safety and change.

References for this writing can be found at – 

https://blogoklahoma.us/place/394/kiowa/site-of-babbs-switch-tragic-school-fire

https://www.thesirenspodcast.com/post/case-files-babbs-christmas-fire

https://genealogytrails.com/oka/kiowa/babbsfire.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Babbs_Switch_fire