 Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and is intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised. Welcome Weirdos, I'm Darren Marlar and this is Weird Darkness. Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained. Coming up in this episode... Tis the season for not only reindeer, grinches and magical snowmen, but also fearless children, negligent parents and dumb thieves. Home Alone might be the first Christmas movie that comes to mind upon hearing that description, but it turns out there is a long and storied tradition of true stories of children left alone around the holidays, matching wits against would-be robbers. What would you think if you received a Christmas card in the mail that had a picture of a dead bird on the cover? Not very festive, huh? But that's not what people believed in the past. For a while, a dead bird was synonymous with saying Merry Christmas. A woman leaves her family to go Christmas shopping at the last minute and disappears forever. But first, Christmas fun isn't all about Santa, his reindeer and a magical snowman come to life thanks to a hat. There are some downright terrifying yuletide monsters that might make you want to stay behind locked doors this year. We begin with that story. If you're new here, welcome to the show. And if you're already a member of this weirdo family, please take a moment and invite someone else to listen. Recommending Weird Darkness to others helps make it possible for me to keep doing the show. And while you're listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com where you can send in your own personal paranormal stories, watch horror hosts present old scary movies 24-7, shop for Weird Darkness and Weirdo merchandise. Listen to free audiobooks that I've narrated. Sign up for the newsletter to win free stuff I give away every month and more. And on the social contact page, you can find the show on Facebook and Twitter, and you can also join the Weird Darkness Weirdos Facebook group. Now bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness. You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Donner and Blitzen, but do you recall the most terrifying Christmas characters of all? I know that's not the way the song goes, but you know what, for some time now, Christmas has been a terrifying holiday, masquerading as the most wonderful time of the year. As much as we might love Santa Claus and his predecessors for shelling out presents to good boys and girls during the Yuletide season, we mostly ignore that it's a reward system with traumatic consequences for a social contract none of us ever agreed to. Yet Santa is the least offensive, aside from being the de facto overlord of these characters, as he only deals with those who end up on his nice list. But what happens to those who end up on his naughty list? Did they all get a lump of coal? Well, perhaps, in some traditions, ancient and modern, we bad boys and girls don't get off so easily. Here, I'm about to unveil some of the most scary and traumatizing characters who have haunted the most wonderful time of the year throughout the ages. So it is the scariest Christmas legend. Well, this is but just a taste of how evil, scary and twisted the holidays can be. Feeling from Germany, Belsnickel is a creepy-looking figure. Covered in patchworked rags to keep his identity secret, he also wears fur and threatens children by carrying a switch. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Belsnickel stops by the doors of households with children and threatens the misbehaving kids that if they don't straighten up, they'll not only not get presents, but they'll get a good beating from Belsnickel himself. Based on the book, The Elf on the Shelf, a Christmas tradition by Carol Abersold and Sean DeBell, illustrated by a co-steindor. Now, aside from the fact you can't call something new a tradition, The Elf on the Shelf is the latest trick for parents to keep children well-behaved during the winter months, if not throughout the rest of the year. A mix of the yule lads and Belsnickel, only without the corporal punishment, the story goes that Santa sends out his little helpers, who apparently haven't worked enough through the year making toys for all the good kinder of the world, to all the households of the world to keep an eye on the kids in the final days building up to Christmas. Each day, The Elf appears in a different part of the house to monitor and report back to Santa, in case Timmy and Tiffany aren't really staying on their best behavior. Part of the tradition of Elf on the Shelf is that he pulls pranks and does cute and creative things. However, despite the fun and mischief that he provides, children are forbidden from touching him, for if they do, he will lose all his magical powers and not be able to report back to Santa. On one hand, that actually seems like a pretty good idea if you're naughty, because then Santa won't truly know, right? But on the other hand, it is rather damning circumstantial evidence. Black Peter, known to natives of the Netherlands as Zortepiet, may appear rather tame in theory. He does, after all, give sweets and presents to good little boys and girls, and he's a companion to Sinterklaus, that is St. Nicholas. The insidiousness of Black Pete comes in the fact that he is a racial stereotype by the lily-white natives of the Netherlands and Belgium. Although modern attempts to be politically correct have claimed that the reason for the naming of Black in Peter's name comes from his occupation as a chimney sweep, the physical appearance says otherwise. Black face makeup, exaggerated red lips and thick grilloey hair. It should also be noted that Pete accompanies Sinterklaus on his journey from Spain, meaning he is likely a moor like the Othello guy from Shakespeare as suggested by Jan Schaikman and St. Nicholas and his servant. In attempts to downplay the racist background of the character to foreign tourists, the Dutch have tried having the person playing Zortepieten instead paint himself in a variety of colors. This did not set well with those rooted in the tradition though, and he has since returned to his black face roots. In recent years, the backlash returned from figures from other cultures, which has forced the local governments to downplay and rethink Zortepieten's role in the winter celebrations. The sons of Grilla and her troll husband, the Eulads come in and run around the town in a backward twelve days of Christmas. The Eulads show up one at a time on the thirteen days building up to Christmas Day, each staying two weeks, so that the first lad who arrived on December 12th is the first to depart on Christmas Day. The remaining brothers then leave one day in the same order that they arrived until festivities end on January 6th. While in modern versions of this story there are mostly just mischievous creatures pulling harmless pranks like slamming doors, eating the town's yogurt supply, no joke, the original story of the lads was far more sinister, and you might have guessed given their presence on this list. As in the modern story, they come down from dwellings in the mountains in the days leading up to Christmas Day, however, rather than pulling the regular prank or trick, they, along with the Eul tide cat, keep an eye on all the children and kidnap those who did not receive any clothes during the season so they can be eaten. As you know, making sure all the children of the world get what's coming to them at the end of the year is quite an enterprise, which is no doubt why Santa has everybody from elves making toys for the good kids to demons kidnapping the main spirited ones helping them out. That would be crampus, which we'll cover in a second. But what about those kids who are neither particularly good or particularly bad? Well, for them, the Germans give us Nekt Rupert, also known as Farmhand Rupert. He more or less looks like a shepherd taken out of your neighborhood nativity who sports a long beard, brown cloak, and a staff. Basically, his stick is that he goes around asking kids if they can pray. If they can, they get some awesome gingerbread. If they can't, he gives them some useless junk. And if they refuse to even try to pray, he beats them with a bag of ashes. So children better remember the reason for the season is the baby Jesus, not just the changes in the seasons, or else they'll receive some unfortunate presents, or get beaten with some ashes. The perchedon is a dual gendered spirit who comes out during the twelve days of Christmas, that is December 25th through January 5th. On one hand, we have the female, beautiful perchedon, schnau perchedon, and on the other, we have the male and aptly named shyged perchedon, or ugly perchedon. The former is a giver of luck and gifts, while the other is an ugly beast who looks much like Krampus and similarly related to the devil, whom is the most ugly of all of the perchedons. As can be expected, the girl gives treats to the good people of the world. The boy punishes the bad. What I believe is the most terrifying about this character of Christmas mythology is that if it passes you, you can never be too sure which side you're going to be met with. On one hand, you gave to the poor, on the other, you could have given more. Werewolves, yes. Werewolves at Christmas. We typically try to limit the lycanthropes to Halloween, be movies and steamy fiction. Werewolves, though, have been a part of the yuletide horror fest since the Middle Ages. In modernity, it's since been reduced, reused and recycled to the claim that simply having the audacity to be born on Christmas Day, that's cause enough to make a person a werewolf. Probably need to warn my brother about that, his stepdaughter was born December 25th. Anyway, the 1961 film The Curse of the Werewolf and explains that being born on December 25th is mocking Jesus Christ. As if the baby had a choice in the matter, but anyway, so because you're born on that day, you have to be punished. Also never mind the fact that Jesus wasn't actually born December 25th, never mind. Anyway, yes, Jesus bringing the Christmas cheer by punishing not just a baby for being born, he's also damning any who fall into his or her wake every year. Whatever. One of the few non-Germanic characters on this list is Grilla, who comes from Icelandic mythology and is a terrifying lady ogre whose preferred diet was naughty children, because yeah, nothing says Merry Christmas quite like being fed to a horrifying crone. In 1746, a decree was issued prohibiting the use of Grilla and the Yule lads as they served no function other than to scare small children to death. Well, this has led to the crafting of a few songs which claim that she has passed away. However, a few of the songs suggest that she could always return to the living should the number of naughty children increase. Pierre Fautare is seen to this day during Christmas in Belgium and France. His name means whipping father, so you can already guess how he brings holiday cheer. But that's not the scary part of this story. That's the happy part. As the story goes, Pierre Fautare began his life as an innkeeper, kidnapper and murderer in that order. One day while keeping his inn, three rich boys on their way to a religious boarding school stayed his inn. Recognizing their wealth, Pierre, along with his wife, decided to capture and murder the children by slitting their throats to take their money. Because that somehow seemed like a better idea than ransoming them to their wealthier parents for some reason. While trying to make corpse stew, St. Nick shows up and resurrects the boys. Seeing his power, the innkeeper repents and becomes St. Nick's partner by becoming the official whipping boy of bad boys and girls. Krampus, whose name comes from the Germanic root for claw, dates back long before the time of Christ. But in modern day he is more or less the ultimate Christmas demon, the antithesis of Santa Claus. He is old Nick to St. Nick, as you might say. His day is December 5th, and while American kids never feared a lack of shiny new presence no matter their behavioral tendencies, children of the old world, especially Germany, knew something worse than a lump of coal was coming their way if they misbehaved. Rather, if you weren't well behaved, you were beaten and tortured before being kidnapped and taken to Krampus' lair where we can only assume that one was beaten and tortured even more. In modern days there appears to be two sides on how to handle the Krampus story. Since the 1950s, Austrians have tried to put the creature on the back burner, claiming terrorizing small children with such tales isn't healthy. While in the Germanic city of Slanders, Cilandro, Italy, young men are even encouraged to dress up as the Krampus and terrorize small children before having some schnapps with the heads of the house. Elsewhere still, the Krampus is given his own holiday prior to the Feast of St. Nicholas, December 5th. It's known as Krampus' Nacht, and he even appears on his own holiday greeting card, known as Krampus' Carton. Up next on Weird Darkness. Deep in the Alpine region of Germany, the Christmas season is book-ended by two frightening beings, Krampus, who roams on December 5th, and Frau Purchta, who is associated with Birchentog, the Feast of Epiphany, January 6th. But who is Frau Purchta? Plus, what would you think if you received a Christmas card in the mail that had a picture of a dead bird on the cover? Not very festive, is it? But that's not what people believed in the past. For a while a dead bird was synonymous with saying Merry Christmas. These stories and more coming up. Who is Frau Purchta? Is she an evil hag who kills lazy women and children, or is she a beautiful lady who protects babies, women and children? The answer is both. In Germanic pagan tradition, the goddess Birchta, or Bertha, meaning bright or shining woman, protected women and children. Birtha, the lady in white or white lady, was considered the Alpine cousin of Brauhalle and the Nordic goddess Friga. As the white lady she was associated with beautiful birch trees and watched over the forests and all the wildlife in it. She was the spirit guide, a psychopump, I love that word, psychopump, who led the dead into the afterlife. Her duty was to care for Heimchen, the children who died in infancy. Birchta was considered the goddess of in-between places. That's a really cool concept. She can be found between safety and danger, between life and death, and on Birchdentog, the epiphany, January 6th, the goddess of the time between the years. But Birchta's dual nature meant that she was also depicted as an old crone, the spinster Benfrau, with a splayed foot, possibly from years of working the treadle on a spinning wheel, or a goose foot, indicating that she was a shapeshifter who cared for animals and she also carried a cane. As this image, she was thought to wander the countryside as the upholder of cultural taboos. During the Raunacht, she was part of the wild hunt, causing the rumbling in the mountains with the followers. Quick aside, why would there be a goddess to uphold cultural taboos? Remember, in Germany, society works together to uphold certain rules. At the time participating in holidays and feasting was important. It held the group together. By not participating, by working on days where the group was supposed to feast, it was to bring bad luck to the group. This concept of society's rules and taboos still carries forward today. Just look at the expectation to sweep your apartment steps on your day, or ordinances against washing the car on a Sunday. As women became a larger part of the economy with their spinning and weaving, Burgsta checked to make sure that young women had completed their spinning for the year. Laziness was not tolerated. Looms were to be set up on January 6th if the work wasn't completed in time, you wouldn't have enough thread for the warp. Put another way, the end of the year is a time for putting new resolutions or goals into place. Unfinished projects are a weight that holds you back from growth or change. A clear mind, a clear workspace allows for new growth. According to one of Burgsta's legends, a woman who lost her son in infancy saw him in a field with a group of other children, each carrying a jug, following a lady dressed in white. As the white lady stepped over a low wall, the other children followed, but her son couldn't get over the wall. She raced over to pick him up and take him in her arms. She smiled at her warmth, but said to her, Don't cry, mother. You will fill my jug with your tears, and it will overflow. I'm safe with the white lady. The weeping mother stopped crying, set her son on the other side of the wall with the rest of the children, and was able to return to her home, content that her child was being looked after. Burgsta especially looked to Burgsta, this southern German cousin to Frau Holly, because she was a goddess of abundance. She cared for children and for domestic issues. Remember, this was a time of high infant mortality. Women needed to believe that their lost babies would be cared for in the afterlife. Burgsta looked after the Heimchen, the spirits of children who died before they could be baptized. In Birchdentuck, January 6th, women would cook a special porridge later called Birchdentmilch, a gruel with fish to feed the family and always leave a bowl of it out for Birchdentuck and her followers. It was said that if Birchdentuck enjoyed the offering, the family would receive blessings for the year. The Catholic Church held great power over Bavaria in the 6th century and insisted that pagan practices be announced. Still, many people didn't want to change. Women did not want to give up their goddess. The Church began to speak out against Birchdentuck from the pulpit, accusing people of praying to Domina Birchdentuck instead of the Virgin Mary. By the 12th century, the Church, using fear tactics, renamed Birchdentuck, calling her Birchdentuck. Birchdentuck are frightening monsters and Birchdentuck now Birchdentuck was the leader of those monsters. The beautiful white goddess was painted as an ugly crone with an iron face and a hooked nose who carried a knife in her skirts to slit the bellies of anybody who crossed her. Despite this, people kept up with their worship. Finally in 1468, the Church officials outlawed the cult of Birchdentuck in the Thessaurus Popernum. It forbade leaving Birchdentuck offerings during the Christmas season. For inquiring minds, the Thessaurus Popernum is a collection of acceptable behaviors, recipes and medicinal cures for the poor compiled over seven centuries by Church officials. New stories emerged about a Christmas hag who would capture and eat children or stuff children into her sack and carry them away. And worse, new legends emerged that Frau Perchda would kill you by slitting your stomach open and stuffing it with straw and stones if your home wasn't clean enough or if you'd not finished your spinning. Essentially, Church officials of time turned her into a female Krampus, the evil counterpart of St. Nicholas. Keep in mind, the years between 1450 and 1700 is known as the Burning Times in German history. The country dealt with the Protestant Revolution, the Thirty Years War and political instability. During this time around 100,000 people were accused of witchcraft and many were killed. Fear and uncertainty were a powerful motivator. By 1750, the transformation was complete and Frau Perchda, also known as Butzenbercht, was a boogeyman known as the Bellyslitter. Frau Perchda appeared on the twelfth night of Christmas with her Perchdent, spirit followers with a new nickname, the Bellyslitter. According to this new legend, if a child were found to be a liar, Perchda would scrape out their eyes with glass. If she was unsatisfied with your behavior, left a dirty home, or worst of all, if your spinning for the year was unfinished, she would slice open your belly and stuff it with straw and pebbles and then stomp the unfinished work with her deformed goose foot. Fear of Frau Perchda started new rituals. In Austria, groups calling themselves Perchdent would dress in masks and costumes and perform rituals to frighten away the ghostly followers of Perchda and wake up the spirits of the new year. But along with the ugly Perchdent, there was also the beautiful Perchdent as we mentioned before, a reflection of Perchda's white woman who would bring luck to the villagers. The church again banned these traditions, but they were never completely lost. The 19th century saw a renewed interest in folk culture. Jacob Grimm published Deutsche Mythologie or Teutonic Mythologie in 1835, detailing pagan German mythology. His research into Perchda claimed that she was once as powerful as Perchda told and led the wild hunt beside him. Slowly, the old traditions began to make a comeback. Like Krampus-knocked parades on December 5th, the rownished or twelve days of Christmas became a time for traditional Perchdent performances. Today, in the Alpine regions of Austria, primarily in Salzburg and Salzkemergut, Perchdent ceremonies are mostly held for the tourists. Scheiche Perchdent, with their heavy, ugly masks, shone Perchdent, who wakes spring, and in Roris, you'd better keep your home clean, or you might get a visit from the Schabel Perchdent, a Perchdent with a giant beak who would make sure the floors are clean and the house is dusted, even in the corners. The theme of Neil Gaiman's book, American Gods, is that the old gods continue to exist only as long as people remember and worship them. The old image of Birchda, guardian of women and infants, might have faded away, but she's not gone. Today, we still carry out some of the rituals, maybe without even understanding why. My house is cleaned for Christmas, and work between Christmas and the epiphany slows way down, not because of Perchda, but because of my mom. She did it because of her mom. Maybe somewhere in our history, an ancestor mother did it because she feared and respected Raoul Perchdent. What would you think if you got a Christmas card in the mail featuring the photo of a dead bird? That somebody really didn't like you? Believe it or not, that would not be the case. Animals have long been associated with Christmas. Although there's no mention of them anywhere in the biblical Gospels of Matthew and Luke, the people of the Middle Ages believed that the lack of involvement of animals in the birth of Jesus was an oversight and were determined to correct this. Since then, a long list of animals has entered the legend. Stories claimed that a donkey carried Mary to Bethlehem. A donkey in an ox knelt down before the baby, a rooster crowed, announcing the birth. A robin burned its breast red after getting too close to the flames while beating its wings to keep the fire and the stable burning. A stork took out its feathers to make a soft bed for the newborn, becoming ever after the patron of babies, and a host of other animals were said to have wandered through the Bethlehem stable. People of the Victorian era took this even further by having all kinds of animals celebrating the season, acting like humans and dressed in human clothing. Holiday cards depicted them dancing with Santa Claus, mailing out cards, playing poker, reading books, singing carols, smoking pipes, and more. It was a novelty at the time and one that was much beloved by the people of the era. And then there were the birds. Dead birds, lying on their backs with their little feet in the air, pictured on Christmas cards with greetings like, May yours be a joyful Christmas and a loving Christmas greeting. These cards, while very popular at the time, are an anomaly today. There is really no real explanation for them, only speculation about their meaning. Historians suggest that the Victorians were a thoroughly sentimental lot and that perhaps their obsession with death, fully on display in the graveyards of the era, is the answer. Death at a young age was common at the time and highly sentimentalized. A small bird might have represented a loving memory, but why on a Christmas card? The images of the dead birds, perhaps frozen in the cold, were sure to elicit pity and sympathy from the Victorians and may reference stories of poor children freezing in the snow. Robins and wrens were symbols of good luck in British and Irish folktales and were considered important birds. Their natural deaths, depicted on cards from the 1880s, have gone on to create a sort of Christmas mystery today. Coming up on Weird Darkness, tis the season for not only reindeer, Grenches and magical snowmen, but also fearless children, negligent parents and dumb thieves. Home Alone may be the first Christmas movie that comes to mind upon hearing that description, but it turns out there is a long and storied tradition of true stories of children left alone around the holidays matching wits against would-be robbers. But first, a woman leaves her family to go Christmas shopping at the last minute and disappears forever. These stories are up next. 38-year-old Michelle Hunley-Smith lived in the tiny rural town of Stoneville, North Carolina with her husband and her children, 14-year-old Amanda, a 7-year-old son and a 19-year-old daughter had already moved into a place of her own. Michelle is described by those close to her as a doting mother who was there when her kids got off the bus every day and loved to cook her family's favorite meals. She was also struggling with alcoholism, a struggle that had recently cost her her job at a local veterinary clinic and was either a reaction to or the cause of problems within her marriage. On December 9, 2001, at 8.30 pm that day, Michelle kissed her kids goodnight and told her family that she needed to pick up some last-minute Christmas gifts. Neighbors saw her drive her 1995 Pontiac Transport van toward Martinsville, Virginia, but she never returned home. Martinsville was a 30-minute drive from the Smith's home in Stoneville, but her family says it was normal for the busy mother to use evenings to shop. However, Michelle never returned from her shopping trip. At 12.30 in the morning, Mr. Smith woke up Amanda and told her that Michelle was missing. The couple had fought before and Michelle had stayed overnight at her mother's home, but there was no fight before Michelle left this time, and she would have said if she wasn't coming home. The Rockingham County Sheriff's Office was notified that Michelle was missing and her family was worried about her. Neither Michelle nor the Pontiac van she drove were ever found. Michelle also had her children's Social Security cards with her when she disappeared. Her purse was where she kept them. Around April 2002, the family received an anonymous letter that was addressed to Michelle and Amanda that claimed Amanda's Social Security number had been used in a North Carolina County two hours away from Stoneville. Contacting the phone number included in the letter did not give the family any more information. Michelle's husband says that she left to start a new life. It wasn't until years after her disappearance that he suddenly recalled Michelle had left a goodbye note to her family. However, the note was never produced to the police, and he now denies that he claimed the note ever existed. Amanda believes that Michelle would never have voluntarily left her children. She recalls trying to endure Christmas with her now missing mother. I'll never forget that first Christmas without her. We didn't even care about presents or anything. Our mom was gone. Nothing was ever the same after that. She also says that she and her mother were best friends and that Michelle was a really good mother. We had a special bond. Amanda made the Bring Michelle, Hunley Smith, home Facebook page to bring public awareness to her mother's case and post photos and updates. The case has also been covered on an episode of The Vanished podcast. If you know anything about the disappearance of Michelle Hunley Smith, you can email findmichaelhunleysmith at gmail.com. The movie Home Alone from 1990 starring Macaulay Culkin has become a Christmas classic. Watching poor Kevin McAllister who was left home at Christmas by himself battling would-be burglars is just pure fun. But the truth of the matter is that Kevin was not the first nor was he the last kid to be left behind during the holidays to take on criminals. And no, I'm not referring to the horrible sequels and remake of the classic movie. I'm talking real life stories. If you too find yourself abandoned by your family and face to face with an unwelcome intruder this holiday season, I have some proven strategies to reclaim your house and, if needed, your Christmas presents. First, ask nicely. You catch more flies with honey, as they say, as shown by this heartwarming tale about a child neglect in capitalist greed. From the Abbeyville Press and Banner, December 24, 1920, a Christmas burglar with a heart heeded the pleas of Ruth Maley, aged 10, not to take her Christmas presents when she found him in her home yesterday noon on her return from school for lunch. The burglar was eating her lunch which had been left by her mother before going downtown shopping. Never mind personal safety, family heirlooms or even proper nutrition, Ruth clearly has her priorities straight, presents or bust. Okay, continuing with the article. He took her to the parlor and played little jingles and Christmas songs for her. When she told him that she would have to return to school, he said, tell your mother I'll return someday and steal everything in the house. But he left without taking anything. According to another account, this one in the Omaha Daily Bee, December 23, 1920, Ruth decided that he was a nice burglar for she begged him not to take her Christmas presents, which her mother replaced in a closet and he never touched them. So I was already questioning little Ruth's sanity for confronting a burglar, but now I think this girl needs immediate psychological care. I mean, what kind of a kid knows where their presents are hidden and doesn't peek, right? Mom, if you're listening, don't worry, I never did, but only because you put them on the top shelf where I couldn't reach them. Another tip for you kids left behind by mom and dad, dress for battle. From the Billings Gazette, November 17, 1905. Noisily trooping downstairs, clad only in their nighties and with their hearts in their throats, three small sons of J.R. Martin, 3328 Second Avenue S, routed a burglar that had entered their home last night and bagged $100 worth of silver. The boys are all under 14 years of age. That's right, folks, forget underwear and capes, real heroes wear nighties. The boys were just getting ready for bed when they had heard someone prowling about in the kitchen below. The boys' parents were at church, but undaunted by the possibility of a mix-up with a burglar, the children went downstairs to see who the intruder was. At least the Martin parents stayed in the same country as their children. I'm looking at you, McAllister. On their way, they made as much noise as three youngsters would be expected to make, and when they entered the kitchen, the frightened burglar was just disappearing through the pantry window. When the boys first heard him, he was ransacking the house and to take in all the silverware from the sideboard. This he had thrown loosely into a sack, but was compelled to leave it behind. As soon as the marauder had left, the boys locked the window and returned to bed, showing no signs of excitement when they told their parents of their experience. Here's another option for you little ones. It's to offer the grinches breaking in a gift basket. If you're looking for a cheap alternative to fancy gift baskets, well, the story's for you. From the Daybook, December 19, 1916. If the Christmas burglar that invaded the home of Mrs. Hallie Tresengar, 4207 North Lincoln Street yesterday will come back, he can have a well-filled basket that will bring cheer to him and the kiddies if he has kiddies. Mrs. Tresengar is sorry for this burglar because she just knows that he was hungry when he broke into their flat, and the way he treated Jana, her 13-year-old daughter, proves that he has a kind heart and is probably a daddy himself in need. When Jana came home from school, she no sooner opened the door than she bumped into this burglar. She screamed but jumped at him and started fighting with all her little might. There you go. Finally, a sensible reaction to an intruder. Way to go, Jana. Anyway, continuing with the story, he stopped her, of course, and tied her hands and feet, but he did it gently and laid her down so softly that Mrs. Tresengar just knows he didn't want to hurt her. The intruder left Jana on the floor and hurried from the house with nothing but a bottle of milk taken off the porch. Forgiveness and compassion, they're noble virtues, but it sounds like Mrs. Tresengar was more concerned about the would-be robber's welfare than the trauma he no doubt caused her poor daughter, Jana. And this burglar was so nice, why do you leave her on the cold floor instead of on a better couch, huh? Okay, well, if all else fails, sit down for story time with your burglar. Admittedly, Emma in this next story was probably not a child at the time and may or may not have actually existed. In the early 20th century, you never know. Still, here is the supposedly true story from the Daily Capital Journal, December 23, 1916. Alone in her house, Mrs. Emma Gard was making Christmas presents when a masked burglar entered, pointed a revolver at her head and ordered her to tell where her money was hidden. You shouldn't be doing this, said the woman, gazing steadily at the intruder. This is Christmas time. I have only $20 and I'm here alone, making presents. Sit down and we will talk about Christmas. Are you listening, missionaries? See, I hope you're taking notes here because that's how this is done. Amazed, the burglar did so and lowered his revolver. Then came the recital of the woman, not in fear, but in the hope of helping the wayward man. The sweetness of the tail he had heard at his mother's knee, the story that never grows old, transformed the man. Instead of a thief, he became again a believer in the gentle Nazarene and in fancy followed the star. Thank you, you've made my Christmas happier, he said in a broken voice as he left the room. So, whether you're in Paris like the McAllisters or at home installing a security system to thwart burglars and Santas alike, best wishes for a happy, crime-free holiday season. Thanks for listening. If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters or unsolved mysteries like you do. You can email me anytime with your questions or comments at darren at weirddarkness.com. Darren is D-A-R-R-E-N. And you can find the show on Facebook and Twitter, including the show's Weirdo's Facebook group on the Contact social page at WeirdDarkness.com. Also on the website, you can find free audiobooks that I've narrated. Watch old horror movies with horror hosts at all times of the day for free. Sign up for the newsletter to win free prizes. Grab your Weird Darkness and Weirdo merchandise. Plus, if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, you can click on Tell Your Story. All stories in Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find source links or links to the authors in the show notes. Merry Christmas Here's a Dead Bird was written by Troy Taylor. Creepy Christmas Characters is by Molly Mayhan for Ranker and Karen Anne for German Girl in America. Mom vanishes while Christmas shopping is by Chrissy Stockton for Thought Catalog. And True Stories of Kids Home Alone at Christmas is from Second Glance History. Again, you can find a link to all of these stories in the show notes. Weird Darkness is a production and trademark of Marlar House Productions. Copyright, Weird Darkness. And now that we're coming out of the dark, I'll leave you with a little light. Micah 5 verse 2, You, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you were small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old from ancient times. And a final thought from Henry Ward Beecher. The unthankful heart discovers no mercies, but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find in every hour some heavenly blessings. I'm Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness. videos. I post videos seven days a week. And while you're at it, spread the darkness by sharing this video with someone you know who loves all things strange and macabre. If you want to listen to the podcast, you can find it at WeirdDarkness.com.