A Christmas Carol a personalised book with your child as the hero

Once upon a time, in old London, there lived a man called Ebenezer Scrooge. He was rich, but he was the meanest, grumpiest man in the whole city. He never smiled, he never gave anything away, and when anyone wished him a merry Christmas, he only grumbled, "Bah! Humbug!"

On a cold, foggy Christmas Eve, a boy called Tom knocked at the door of Scrooge's counting house. Tom was carrying a basket of holly for the neighbours, and he had come to wish everyone a happy Christmas. Inside, it was nearly as cold as the street. Scrooge sat hunched at his tall desk, counting his money. His clerk, poor Bob Cratchit, sat shivering on a stool, trying to warm his hands over a fire with only one coal in it.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Scrooge!" said Tom.

"Bah! Humbug!" snapped Scrooge. "Christmas is a waste of time and money."

Bob Cratchit gave Tom a kind smile and a little wink, and Tom decided that somebody ought to keep an eye on this grumpy old man.

That night Scrooge went home to his big, dark house and climbed into his curtained bed. Tom, who had followed to bring him a sprig of holly, peeped in from behind a tall armchair. Suddenly they heard a clanking, rattling sound coming up the stairs. The door swung open, and in floated a pale, sad ghost, wrapped in long chains hung with cash boxes, keys and padlocks.

"Jacob Marley!" gasped Scrooge. "My old partner!"

"I wear the chain I made in life," said the ghost sorrowfully. "Link by link, from every kind deed I never did. You are making a chain just like it, Ebenezer. But there is still hope for you. Tonight you will be visited by three spirits. Listen to them." And with a last rattle of his chains, Marley drifted out through the window and was gone.

At one o'clock, the room filled with soft light. There, by the bed, stood a strange glowing figure, like a child and an old man at once, with a bright flame shining from its head. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," it said gently. It opened the window, took Scrooge by the sleeve, and Tom held on tight to the bedpost, and suddenly they were all flying over the rooftops.

They landed in a warm, busy warehouse full of music and laughter. A fiddler was playing on top of a barrel, and a jolly round man was dancing with all his might. "Why, it's old Fezziwig!" cried Scrooge. "I worked here when I was a young man! Bless his heart!" They watched young Scrooge dancing and laughing with his friends, and for the first time in years, old Scrooge smiled.

When they were back in Scrooge's bedroom, the clock struck two, and a great laugh boomed from the next room. Scrooge and Tom opened the door and gasped. The room was heaped from floor to ceiling with turkeys and puddings, oranges and roasted chestnuts and mince pies, and on top of it all sat a jolly giant in a green robe, holding a glowing torch. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," he roared kindly. "Come and see!"

He showed them Scrooge's nephew Fred, laughing at his Christmas party while his guests played blind man's buff. Then he showed them the Cratchits' tiny house. There was not much on the table, but Mrs Cratchit carried in a little Christmas pudding as proudly as if it were the finest in the land, and everyone cheered. Bob Cratchit's youngest son, Tiny Tim, sat on his little stool with his crutch beside him. He was small and not very well, but he raised his cup and said, "God bless us, every one!"

"Spirit," said Scrooge quietly, "tell me Tiny Tim will be all right."

The Ghost said nothing, and the room faded away.

At the stroke of three, a tall, silent figure in a long dark hood came gliding towards them. It did not speak at all. It was the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. It lifted one long hand and pointed. They saw the Cratchits' little home again, but now it was quiet and dim. The little stool by the fire stood empty, and the little crutch leaned against the wall. Nobody was laughing.

Scrooge fell to his knees. "Spirit, I will change!" he cried. "I will keep Christmas in my heart all the year round. Tell me it is not too late!" Tom stood close behind him, and he could see that Scrooge truly meant it.

The next thing Scrooge knew, he was in his own bed, holding on to his own bedpost, and sunshine was pouring in through the window. Church bells were ringing all over London. Scrooge flung open the window, and Tom leaned out of the next pane.

"You there, boy!" Scrooge called down to a lad in the snowy street. "What day is it?"

"Why, it's Christmas Day, sir!"

"Christmas Day! I haven't missed it!" laughed Scrooge. "Do you know the poulterer's shop on the corner? With the prize turkey in the window, the one as big as you? Go and buy it, and have it taken to Bob Cratchit's house!"

So the enormous prize turkey was carried through the streets to the Cratchits' front door, and Tom walked along behind it with his basket of holly, grinning from ear to ear.

That afternoon, there was a knock at the Cratchits' door. In came Scrooge, beaming, with a bright new scarf around his neck. "Merry Christmas!" he said. "I have come to join your feast, if you will have me. And Bob, from tomorrow your wages will be raised, and we'll get you all the coal you need!"

They all sat down together around the golden turkey, and there was laughing and cheering and pulling of crackers until the candles burned low. Scrooge kept his word. He became as good a friend and as kind a man as the old city had ever known, and he was like a second father to Tiny Tim, who grew strong and well. And ever afterwards, people said that if anyone knew how to keep Christmas, Ebenezer Scrooge did.

As Tiny Tim said, "God bless us, every one!"