Mrs. Scrooge: A Christmas Poem by Carol Ann Duffy, Beth Adams (Illustrator)

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With her husband, Ebenezer, now "doornail dead," the coldest Christmas Eve on record finds Mrs. Scrooge outside the supermarket, protesting consumerism and waste. "Spoilsport!" shout the passersby as they load up their shopping carts with Christmas goodies. Just as Ebenezer did, Mrs. Scrooge keeps to her frugal ways...but in the present economy, with loads of meaningless material goods bought on credit, maybe Mrs. Scrooge has the right idea.

That night, alone in her bed with Catchit the cat beside her, Mrs. Scrooge is visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. As each in succession takes her by the hand and sweeps through the scenes of her life, Mrs. Scrooge learns not only what the "Christmas Spirit" really means, but the nature of the real gifts we give and receive.

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Scrooge doornail-dead, his widow, Mrs. Scrooge, lived by herself
in London Town. It was that time of year, the clocks long back,
when shops were window-dressed with unsold tinsel, trinkets, toys,
trivial pursuits, with sequinned dresses and designer suits, with chocolates, glacé fruits and marzipan, with Barbie, Action Man, with bubblebath and aftershave and shower gel;
the words Noel and Season's Greetings brightly mute in neon lights. The city bells had only just chimed three, but it was dusk already. It had not been light all day.Copyright © 2009 by Carol Ann Duffy