On a cold, frosty December afternoon, Holly put on her sparkly jumper and woolly coat and walked to her friend Cillian’s house for a Christmas party. The house was bright with twinkly lights, paper snowflakes, and happy music. Everyone was laughing and playing games.
Soon it was time for food. Cillian’s mam and dad placed all the food on the large kitchen table: ham sandwiches, sausage rolls, bowls of crisps, mince pies, and a big Christmas cake with snowy white icing.
Holly looked carefully at the table. Her smile faded a little. Her tummy felt sad. Holly was a coeliac, which meant she could not eat food with gluten. She sat quietly.
Cillian noticed. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m okay,” Holly said softly. “I don’t think I can eat the party food.”
Cillian remembered. “Oh, Dad! I forgot to tell you that Holly needs gluten-free food!”
Cillian’s dad looked shocked. “I didn’t know a coeliac child was coming. I’m so sorry, Holly.” He thought for a moment, then picked up his phone. “I’ll ring Mrs O’Connell next door. She might have something – and I think she’s a coeliac too.”
“Thank you, Mr Byrne,” Holly smiled.
A moment later, Cillian’s dad returned. “Good news! Mrs O’Connell is baking now and says she has plenty to share.”
Just then, a warm, wonderful smell floated in through the open kitchen window. Butter, sugar, and spices filled the air – all the smells of Christmas.
“Do you smell that?” Cillian asked.
Before anyone could answer, there was a knock at the door.
Mrs O’Connell stood there, holding a wooden board covered with a cloth.
“Happy Christmas, everyone! I have some lovely treats,” she said kindly. “I always bake gluten-free. I’m a coeliac too, Holly,” she added with a grin. “And I’ve plenty to share.”
Mr Byrne welcomed her in. “You’re a star, Mrs O’Connell!”
She lifted the cloth to show gingerbread men, meringues with cream and red berries, mini orange star biscuits, and Christmas cake slices topped with marzipan and bright white icing.
“They’re all gluten-free,” she said.
Holly’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“Really,” Mrs O’Connell nodded.
Holly clapped her hands. “That’s really kind! Thank you so much, Mrs O’Connell – and Mr Byrne!”
Holly reached for an orange star biscuit and took a bite. It was crunchy, citrusy, sweet, and still warm from the oven. It tasted just like Christmas. Her tummy felt happy again.
“This was my grandmother’s recipe,” Mrs O’Connell said, “that I changed so I could still enjoy the flavour every Christmas.”
Mrs O’Connell joined the party, and everyone gathered around the table. Cillian’s mam made some safe hot chocolate for all to drink. They chatted while eating, sharing stories and laughing.
As they talked, another child, John, said, “I can’t eat fish. I’m allergic to it.”
Cillian’s mam blinked. “Oh! I didn’t know that either.”
Mrs O’Connell laughed softly. “Well, thank goodness I didn’t put the pink salmon in the meringues then!”
For a moment, everyone was quiet. Then they all burst out laughing.
“Salmon meringues!” John giggled leaning back with laughter.
They kept eating and talking – about baking, about the land the food came from, about old recipes, and about new friends.
Outside, the sky had darkened, and the stars twinkled above while the frost sparkled on the grass. Inside, the Christmas party felt just right. Holly looked around at her friends and all the lovely food and felt warm inside. She didn’t feel left out any more. She felt like she belonged.
As the party ended, Holly hugged Cillian goodbye and waved to her new friends. She smiled all the way home, gazing at the starry sky. She thought about the orange Christmas star biscuits, the twinkling stars above, and how some of the best surprises bring the village together.
All images on this post were AI-created.
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