Christmas Stockings Worksheet Download

Look at that soft red stocking hanging by the fireplace! This is a Christmas stocking. A round orange and small treats can fit inside.

An orange looks a little like a gold coin. An old legend tells of Saint Nicholas and gold coins. The coins landed in stockings drying by the fire.

Stockings by the fire are in a famous poem too. In 1823 the poem said they were hung by the chimney with care. A legend and a poem both put stockings by the fire!

Have you ever seen a big sock hanging by a fire? It is a Christmas stocking, long and soft and ready for treats. Kids hang it up and hope to find small surprises inside.

Surprises like these are part of a legend, a very old story. In it, kind Nicholas gave gold coins to a poor family. The coins landed in stockings that were drying by the fire!

Stockings by the fire star in a poem from 1823, over 200 years ago. The poem says they were hung by the chimney with care. Today, some hold chocolate coins in gold foil, like the legend's coins!

Wow, families in many places hang up socks on purpose, and nobody is even wearing them! Every December, many families hang Christmas stockings from a fireplace or a stair rail. They can be red, green, striped, or fuzzy, and big enough to hold a candy cane.

Some stockings hang by fireplaces because of a legend, a very old story. In it, Saint Nicholas, a kind man, wanted to help a poor family. He tossed gold coins into their home, and they landed in stockings drying by the fire!

Stockings by the fire got even more famous in 1823, when a poem was printed in a New York newspaper. It says, 'The stockings were hung by the chimney with care.' That poem is more than 200 years old!

Hearing that line, you may wonder what goes inside; long ago, one favorite treat was an orange. In the Netherlands, children set out shoes instead, a tradition, or custom, that families repeat each year. So a legend about gold coins still pops up whenever someone hangs a stocking.

Imagine you are tiptoeing into a quiet living room on a chilly December morning. A row of stockings hangs by the fireplace, each one bulging with lumpy shapes. A Christmas stocking is a large sock, made of cloth or yarn, that families hang during the holiday. But why hang a sock on a wall instead of wearing it?

The answer begins with a legend about Saint Nicholas, a kind man who lived in Myra, in what is now Turkey, more than 1,600 years ago. The story says a nearby family was very poor, so Nicholas secretly tossed gold coins through their window. The coins landed in stockings that were drying by the fire! People loved this legend and kept telling it for hundreds of years.

People were still sharing Saint Nicholas stories about 200 years ago, in 1823, when a poem about Christmas Eve appeared in a New York newspaper. It says, "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care." Because so many people loved the poem, hanging stockings by the chimney became a favorite custom.

Inside the stockings in those homes, families tucked small treats, like oranges. Long ago, oranges were rare winter treats in many places, like bright bits of sunshine. In the Netherlands and Germany, children set out shoes for St. Nicholas Day, around December 6. Think of it: a legend about gold coins drying by one fire long ago now has stockings hanging by fireplaces all around the world!

Picture a living room on Christmas Eve, with a fire crackling and stockings lined up along the mantel. Some are red and fuzzy, others are knitted with snowflakes, and each one has a name stitched on top. Did you know this cozy custom is tied to an old story about gold coins and socks drying by a fire?

That story starts with a real man named Nicholas, who lived in Myra, in what is now Turkey, about 1,700 years ago. Christians remember him as Saint Nicholas, a bishop famous for his kindness. According to one legend, a poor father worried about his three daughters, so Nicholas secretly tossed gold coins through their window. The coins, the story says, landed in stockings drying by the fire!

Stockings by a fire were about to become famous again, this time in a poem. In December 1823, a New York newspaper called the Troy Sentinel printed "A Visit from St. Nicholas" without the author's name. One line said, "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care." Readers loved it so much that it was printed again and again, making chimney stockings a picture of Christmas Eve.

Of course, a hanging stocking needs something inside, and for many families that meant an orange. Long ago in winter, fresh oranges were rare treats in many places because they grow in warm climates and had to travel far. A stocking might also hold nuts, candy, or a small toy. Some say the round, golden fruit is a nod to the legend's coins.

Legends travel, and so do customs, which is why other places have their own versions. In the Netherlands, children set shoes by the fireplace around Saint Nicholas Day, December 6. In Italy, stockings are hung for Epiphany on January 6, when Christians remember the wise men's visit to baby Jesus. So when you see a stocking on a mantel, remember the legend of gold coins and drying socks that people have told for centuries!

Here is a puzzle: why would anyone hang a sock on a wall in December? It sounds silly, but families all over the world do it, dangling stockings from mantels, banisters, and even doorknobs. Some are fuzzy and red, and some are big enough to hold a whole pile of surprises. The answer to the mystery leads back to a kind man, an old legend, and a famous poem.

That kind man was Saint Nicholas, a Christian bishop who lived in the 300s in Myra, in what is now Turkey. Christians remember him for helping people in need, and he became one of the best-loved saints in the world. One legend says a poor father could not afford money for his three daughters' futures. In the legend, gold coins tumbled through the house at night and landed in stockings drying by the fire!

Tales like that one were hard to forget, so they traveled across Europe for centuries and left customs behind. In Germany and the Netherlands, children still set out shoes or boots on the night before St. Nicholas Day, December 6. Imagine racing to check your boot on a winter morning, hoping to find nuts, sweets, or a small toy inside! Shoes or stockings, the idea is the same: a special spot where a surprise can appear.

That idea of a special spot for surprises got a big boost in 1823, when a poem appeared in a New York newspaper called the Troy Sentinel. It was printed without an author's name and was later called "A Visit from St. Nicholas." Early on, readers find the line "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care." Families loved picturing that cozy scene, and people still read the poem aloud today.

Once a stocking hung by the chimney, it needed something inside, and in many places an orange was a treasure. Fresh oranges were hard to find in winter in colder lands long ago, so a bright, juicy fruit felt like sunshine in a sock. Nuts, candies, and tiny toys later joined the orange. So the next time you spot a stocking, remember that it echoes a legend about gold coins, told about a bishop who lived in the 300s.

Think the Christmas stocking was invented by a toy company or a clever card designer? Think again! Picture one hanging from a mantel, striped in red and white, its toe bulging like a snowball. It looks like plain decoration, yet it carries a story much older than any store. In fact, the tale behind it began more than a thousand years before the United States existed. Like a tiny time capsule made of yarn, the stocking holds centuries of stories, customs, and small surprises.

That long-ago tale starts in Myra, a town in what is now Turkey, where a kind Christian bishop named Nicholas lived in the fourth century. According to one famous legend, a father there was so poor that he feared his three daughters could never marry. The legend says Nicholas heard about the trouble and secretly tossed gold coins into the house, where they landed in stockings drying by the fire. Can you picture the family's surprise at finding gold glinting inside wet wool? Because of stories like this one, Nicholas became known as a saint who loved giving, and Saint Nicholas Day is still celebrated on December 6.

Those drying stockings stayed in legend for centuries, until a poem hung them on a very famous chimney. In December 1823, a newspaper in Troy, New York, printed a poem called "A Visit from St. Nicholas" without naming its author. One line, "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care," worked like a spark, and readers across America began to picture stockings waiting on their own mantels. Today most people know the poem by its opening words, "'Twas the night before Christmas." Just one line of verse helped turn an old legend into a household habit.

Of course, a stocking hung with care needs something to hold, and for many families the star of the toe was an orange. In the 1800s, fresh oranges were a rare winter treat in many northern places, so finding one felt like discovering a small piece of sunshine. Some people say the round, golden fruit also reminds them of the coins in Nicholas's legend, though that is a tradition of storytelling rather than a proven fact. Other countries have their own versions: in the Netherlands and Germany, children set out shoes or boots around Saint Nicholas Day, and in Italy, stockings are hung for Epiphany on January 6. Nuts, candy, and tiny toys are common finds, and it is the surprise that makes them sparkle.

That thrill of surprise is one reason the custom has lasted, whether it happens in a sock, a shoe, or a boot. I think the stocking is the humblest decoration in the house, yet one of the most powerful. It needs no batteries, no screens, and no fancy wrapping, only a little imagination and a hook on the wall. Many families still stitch names onto their stockings, so each one seems to say, "Someone thought of you." Not bad for a piece of laundry that, according to legend, was simply drying by a fire more than 1,600 years ago.

What could a fuzzy sock on your mantel possibly have in common with a bishop who lived more than 1,600 years ago? Quite a lot, as it turns out. Picture the stocking: red or striped, sagging in the middle, with a lumpy bulge at the toe and a name stitched across the cuff in glittery thread. Follow the trail of this humble object, and you'll find a legend, a famous poem, and a juicy orange that together turned ordinary laundry into a holiday symbol.

That laundry connection begins with Saint Nicholas, a Christian bishop who lived in the 300s in Myra, a town in what is now Turkey. According to a well-known legend, a father in the town was so poor that he could not give his three daughters the money they needed to marry. Nicholas, hearing of the family's trouble, is said to have secretly tossed bags of gold coins through a window at night. In the story, the coins landed in stockings that the sisters had hung by the fire to dry. Nobody can prove the details, but the tale was retold for centuries, and Nicholas became known as a patron saint of children, honored on December 6.

That December 6 feast day gave families across Europe a reason to set out something special, and the custom slowly began to travel. In parts of Europe, children put shoes or boots by the hearth or the door around St. Nicholas Day, hoping to find small treats inside. A shoe and a stocking do the same job, after all: each is an empty container waiting near the warmth of a fire. When people crossed oceans, they packed their customs along with their clothes, and those customs mixed with the habits of new neighbors. Over time, in many English-speaking countries, the shoe became a stocking, and the tradition became linked with Christmas.

The stocking's biggest publicity boost came in 1823, when a poem appeared in a newspaper called the Troy Sentinel in New York. It was printed without an author's name, and it later became known as "A Visit from St. Nicholas." Clement Clarke Moore, a New York professor, was widely credited with writing it, though some scholars have argued that another man, Henry Livingston Jr., was the true author. Whoever wrote it, one line stuck in readers' minds: "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care." Because the poem was reprinted so many times, it helped carry the picture of stockings by the chimney far beyond the newspaper's first readers.

With stockings hanging by the chimney, the next question was what belonged inside them. In many homes the answer was small and sweet: nuts, candy, and, most famously, an orange. The orange was special because, in the 1800s, fresh citrus was harder to find in winter in cooler places, so a single bright one felt like a real treasure. Some people also see a link to the old legend, since a round, golden orange looks a bit like a gold coin. As ships and railroads carried fruit farther, oranges became easier to buy, yet one still turns up in the toe of many stockings today.

That orange at the toe is only one example of how the stocking keeps changing. Because many modern homes have no fireplace, stockings now hang from staircases, bookshelves, and hooks screwed into walls. Families stitch names on them, and shops sell them in sizes from tiny ornaments to sacks big enough for a pillow. Not bad for a piece of clothing that, in the legend, was only hanging up to dry.

On December 23, 1823, readers of the Sentinel, a newspaper in Troy, New York, found a poem printed without an author's name. Tucked among its bouncing lines was a picture many families still know by heart: "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care." Imagine the scene as those first readers might have: a knitted stocking, a little stretched at the heel, dangling above a crackling fire. Today a Christmas stocking might be a plain wool sock or a bright felt boot with a name stitched across the top. How did such an ordinary piece of clothing become a symbol of the season, and why are so many people still arguing over its story?

Arguments are a good place to begin, because even the poem's author is still debated. Titled "An Account of a Visit from St. Nicholas," it is now better known by its opening line, "'Twas the night before Christmas." Clement Clarke Moore, a New York professor, was later credited with it and included it in a book of his poems in 1844. Descendants of another New York poet, Henry Livingston Jr., claim that he wrote it years earlier, and researchers continue to weigh writing style, old records, and family memories. Whoever wrote it, the poem helped fix an image in readers' minds: stockings hanging by a chimney, waiting. Notice, though, that it describes the custom without explaining where it came from.

For an explanation, storytellers reached back to Nicholas, a Christian bishop who lived in Myra, in what is now Turkey, in the 300s. According to the legend, a father there worried he could not afford weddings for his three daughters. Nicholas secretly gave gold to the family, and in the best-known version the coins landed in stockings hung to dry by the fire. Notice, though, that many early tellings mention only gold tossed into the house, so the stockings look like a detail added later. That makes the legend a good example of how traditions grow: a small act of kindness gathers new details each time it is retold. Nicholas was later honored as a saint, remembered for generosity toward children.

Gold coins are easy to imagine tumbling into a stocking, and that may be why some people link them to another treasure of the toe: the orange. Round and golden, the fruit does resemble a coin, and families have long told that story. But a second explanation is more practical: before refrigerated shipping, fresh citrus was hard to get in winter in colder places, so one orange was a genuine treat. Alongside it, people tucked in nuts, apples, candy, and small toys. Which explanation is stronger? The coin idea is charming but is a popular explanation rather than a documented origin, while the shortage of winter fruit rests on facts historians can check.

Whatever an orange stands for, it needs somewhere to sit, and around the world people have chosen different spots. In the Netherlands and Germany, children set out polished shoes or boots around December 5 and 6, when Saint Nicholas Day is observed. In France, shoes have traditionally been placed near the fireplace on Christmas Eve. In the United States, the knitted stocking on the mantel became the familiar choice, helped along by poems like the one from 1823 and the holiday pictures that followed. The container changes, but the idea does not: something worn on the foot is left where a surprise might appear.

From a shoe by a French hearth to a sock on an American mantel, the custom has kept changing shape while the idea stays the same. Today many families buy or stitch matching stockings, each with a name on it, and some still tuck an orange into the toe. A careful reader can learn something from all this: legends explain why people treasure generosity, while documents such as the 1823 newspaper show what people were actually doing. Both kinds of evidence matter, but they answer different questions. Perhaps the most striking part is how little it took: a legend about gold, a poem printed without a name, and an ordinary sock. That newspaper page is now more than two centuries old, yet the stockings it mentioned still hang by chimneys every December.