"Marley
was dead ... dead as a doornail, in fact." This must be distinctly understood
or nothing wonderful can come of the story you’re about to hear Ebenezer
Scrooge had a heart colder than winter and a spirit dreary as the London
fog. It’s been said even blind dogs crossed the street to avoid the man
who preferred the company of money to all else. But, as Scrooge would soon
discover, some of the world’s most profitable riches aren’t found in bank
accounts.
There in his gloomy chambers, supposedly secure against surprise, Scrooge is about to have Christmas Eve company and there’s not a caroler in the bunch. Four ghostly visitors usher him into the most horrifying nightmare he has ever seen ... his own wretched life of utter selfishness.
Join the most miserly curmudgeon ever known as he ponders a potentially frightful fate — and realizes that the joy of giving to others is a treasure far outweighing anything you can hoard.
