My Christmas Story

I decided to write a Christmas story but all the Christmas stories I have ever read, besides the biblical one, are mostly about love, family, kindness, giving, and Christmas spirit. I wanted to do something different. Sorry this is kinda long. Merry Christmas!

My Good Friend Myra,

The maracle we experienced last week at the wedding was unbelievable! I can explain it no better than I could at the time! I do not know how that man made wine out of nothing. But there is something else that shocked me...

When I was very little, I lived with my aunt and uncle in that little town, Bethlehem. They owned an inn there. My memory is weak, but I do recall some things about that time. I spent most of my life there, playing with the girl across the street. Her name was Leah. I look back and smile when I remember how proud she was of her baby brother. We used to watch him for his mother and play with him. But Myra, do not suppose I did not do a fair share of work! Uncle put me to work with odd jobs like folding laundry and sweeping the rooms. The busiest time of year at the inn was when people came to Bethlehem to register. I did not understand why so many people flooded our street, but I knew that my aunt and uncle needed my help so I swept and folded and did extra jobs. Even my uncle, who usually did work at the counter, helped us with the cleaning. It was not long before all the rooms in the inn were packed with guests. Someone was even staying in my little attic room, so I was forced to share with my aunt and uncle. The chores seemed to be endless, but it was an exciting time for me! I watched all the visitors keenly. There was a farmer with a long nose and dark eyebrows who had twelve children. They were all younger than I was. They were ceaselessly getting into trouble and kept the mother and servant girl busy. There was a wealthy man who wore a robe of green. Oh Myra, how awed I was by this ruby ring he wore on one of his fat fingers. As a child, I thought I had seen the most beautiful jewel that existed. But it was a particular visitor that amazed me the most. Of what importance I knew not, but I knew he was important. After all our rooms were filled, many, many more travelers came begging to stay. At last my aunt let a desperate pregnant lady and her husband stay in our stable. Aunt sent me to clean the stable. I tried to make a bed of hay for the guest and clean the stable up as much as possible. From a glance at the visitors, they looked ordinary as far as I could see. I went to bed late that night, late from doing odd jobs for my aunt. I got no sleep . There was lots of  bustling about and soon my aunt came and told me a baby had been born in the stable. As she was telling me this she was called off to answer a knock at the door. I fallowed, interested to see who would come so late. We found a group of shepherds who said God had sent them there. I cannot explain the wonder I felt as I looked at the shabby men at my aunt's front door not because they looked exciting but because I felt like something wonderful and important was happening. I was not sure what. My aunt led the shepherds to the stable to see the new baby. Something was different in my aunt. Whether she was calm or wild,  joyful or sad, confused or not I could not figure out. If I was surprised to see shepherds at the door, imagine my shock when I was sent to answer the door a little later and met three kings. Never in my life had I seen such extraordinary men. The green ring I had marveled at earlier was nothing compared to the jewels covering these men. They were wearing jewels of every color, crowns of pure gold, and purple robes of silk. Usually I am not shy, as you know Myra, but the sight of such grandeur stunned me so badly I could not speak. They asked where the child was so I led them to the stable with out a word. I hardly trusted my feet, but I managed to lead them somehow. Aunt sent me to bed before I could go into the stable myself. Of course I was disappointed, but I obeyed though I never fell asleep that night. At the crack of dawn I ran down to the stable in hopes of seeing the baby for myself. The stable was empty. The shepherds and kings were gone. If I could not recall it so well I would have concluded that it was all dream. My uncle told me they had left in the night. I did not know why. 

Several days later when this was still on my mind a second thing took place that I have never forgotten. It happened on an evening when I was sent to bed, this time to my own room. All of the sudden I heard a baby cry. I was startled and ran to my aunt. She wrapped me up close and held me tightly in her arms trying to muffle the sound from my ears. No matter what she did I could hear the scream. It raced through my heart like a cold knife. It was not one baby's cry but many. The wail of others too. The wail of the city. This all happened so long ago and I was to young to understand but I knew a few things. One was that after that I did not play with Leah's baby brother anymore. There was no more baby brother to play with. I felt like the child that had been born in our stable had something to do with all this. I could not figure out how such a wonderful baby could bring upon such sorrow in the city. The whole town seemed to weep after that dark night. I will never forget it. 

So Myra, you are probably wondering what all of this has to do with the miracle at the wedding feast? There is no doubt about it. The mother of that man who did that amazing miracle was the same lady who came to our inn so many years ago. When I saw her at the wedding feast I recognized her at once! She is the mother of that wonderful baby. I think the man who made wine out of nothing, her son, was the baby grown up. Now do you see my excitement! I could not explain this all at the feast so I am trying to put my emotions on paper in this letter. The lady was the very same though a little older looking. 

I have been thinking as I write this and have decided there is only one way we can explain all of this. The baby born so long ago in my Aunt and Uncle's stable must be the promised Messiah! Please do not laugh at me. I am not joking. Remember the Prince of Peace promised by God's prophets. It is written that he would come as a child born in the town of Bethlehem. My dear friend Myra, we have seen the promised one! I still do not understand everything. How could the child who would save us all bring sorrow to Bethlehem? I think this prince is bringing us something more then victory over our enemies. I think His victory will stretch farther then we have ever imagined! It is greater then saving children from death. I think this Messiah is bringing everlasting joy!

Your Friend,

Ruth

"For to us a child is born,

to us a son is given;

and the government shall be upon his shoulder,

and his name shall be caller Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

Isaiah 9:6

 

The wacky story of Snow White...

Dear Friends,

At your request I will confess the real story of Princess Snow White. The tale told these many years is false, so I have offered to tell you the truth of how she married. Here is the story of our dearly beloved majesty as I witnessed any. Anything I did not witness was told to me by the princess herself. I give this story with the best respects to her and the Prince.  

Once upon a time in a great, powerful kingdom ruled a wicked queen. Her step daughter, Snow Eliza White, was left in her care when King Frederick White died. The queen was known throughout the land for her beauty, and she was determined to marry the young prince of a neighboring nation, Fitzwilliam, who was handsome, powerful, and wealthy. This determination impacted the way she talked, acted, and dressed. Anything to please Prince Fitzwilliam, the queen thought.  She neglected Snow. Never the less, Snow did not complain. Everything about her from her oversized ears to her pale white skin was ugly. Snow had nothing of her step mother’s beauty but was as round, plain, and pale as a snow ball. At the palace she lived a private, quiet life polishing the shiny silver ware, tending her garden, and reading books about pretty heroines. The queen  never guessed Prince Fitzwilliam would take a liking to the ugly little princess so she was greatly surprised when her fretful lady in waiting, Miss Marian Mirror, informed her that the prince had told his man servant, whom Miss Marian knew fairly well, that he had set his heart on marrying Snow. At once the queen was horrified but she would take no chances. Snow must be slain. All along Snow had no idea the queen was plotting to kill her. She had never me Prince Fitzwilliam. She was tending her garden, patting down the soil with a chubby hand, when the butcher ran up to her panting desperately.

“Snow!” he wailed sweat pouring down his face. “I am supposed to kill you.”

“What?” she bounded up in horror.

He gulped, “The queen says I have to kill you.”

Terror and shock penetrated the princess’ face as she realized the butcher was carrying an ax.

“I can’t kill you,” he added bitterly. “I could never kill a princess or an innocent girl.”

Snow stared at him in disbelief, “The queen would never do that.”

“But she has,” he answered rubbing his hairless head with his thumb, “you better run away and hide lest she kills you.”

“But why is she mad at me?” Snow wanted to know

The butcher could not answer but he begged Snow to leave quickly if she wanted to live. So, that very day, a bedraggled princess in her gardening dress fled with no knowledge of where she would go but only the fear of what she left behind eroding her mind. Soon she was lost in an unfamiliar forest where she stumbled around through hedges. Her dress tore and her tears stained her face pink. At long last the princess found shelter in a tavern, home to seven wild men and their wild families. Snow was given the drafty attic to sleep in. It was so moldy she had to be careful where she stepped but Snow was grateful for a home. The residents were crude, barbaric people who treated Snow like a servant but she tended them patiently. Soon she found that all the men and their families had terrorizing tempers. Every day Snow lived in fear of these wild people but they fed her and let her call the attic home. Thus passed many long months for Snow.  Having lived all her life at the palace, Snow was not used to going to bed hungry and feeling dirty always.

Down by the creek not far from the tavern while washing clothes Snow caught a glimpse of herself in the clear reflection of the icy water. She gaped with disgust and surprise. Up from the water gapping back at her was a hungry, mud stained face. Tears sprang into the princesses’ eyes as she noted hopelessly that she looked as wild as the tavern owners.

“But I’m a princess,” she whispered determinedly to the reflection. It seemed to mock her very words by its filth.

Snow had eaten the food of the tavern people, dried pork, canned beans, and a mushy contraption they told her were grits. Some days her stomach growled for good food. It was on one of these days that a wealthy looking man came to the tavern carrying a basket of fresh apples.

“Um,” Snow crept shyly up to him from the corner she had been mopping staring at the apples greedily. “Excuse me, sir,” she whimpered in desperation.

“Yes,” he turned on her kindly.

“May I please have an apple,” begged Snow to hungry to think of propriety.

The man’s master had told him sternly not to do anything with the apples until they were safely delivered to the palace but out of pity the man reached into the basket. One could not hurt, he consoled himself. Then very kindly he gave the apple to Snow. Little did she know that the fruit was a gift for the queen from Prince Fitzwilliam.

Without waiting Snow dug her teeth into the apple and took one juicy bite of it. She collapsed. The poor man was horrified, but nothing he could do would revive Snow. The tavern people were indignant for Snow had, after all, been a good servant. Their anger burned against the helpless man servant. To save his life, he fled and returned with the Prince a day later. Snow was still alive but unconscious.  Evidently Prince Fitzwilliam had accidently poisoned her in hopes of poisoning her step mother with the apples.

“The poor girl,” lamented Prince Fitzwilliam, “it should be a matter of days before she dies.”

He had no idea the peasant was Snow.

“Is there nothing I can do?” his manservant wondered distraught.

There was only one thing. Of his many good traits, one was the prince had studied many medical books. He busied himself with a procedure in hopes to take the poison out of Snow’s body. The bewildered tavern men listened to the prince’s long explanation without understanding a word of it. A surgery took place in the tavern that night under the prince’s skilled hand. He had always wanted to be a doctor. By morning, Snow was unconscious but still alive.

She awoke in the evening under the watch of the prince. “Where am I?” was her first question.

  “Good evening, patient,” was the merry response of Prince Fitzwilliam.

She was informed by one of the tavern men that the prince had saved her life. Snow was most grateful to him and she explained that she was Princess Snow Eliza White.

“Is it possible!” gasped Prince Fitzwilliam.

Now Snow was under the impression that the Prince had told his servant he meant to marry her, a false impression. No one knew the queen’s lady in waiting had lied. Snow was waiting for the Prince to propose to her but when he did not after a long time  she finally asked

“Aren’t you going to ask to marry me?”

The Prince was taken back. “How did you know?” he asked. “I was in love with you ever since I saw you dying on the floor of the tavern. I have just been too scared to tell you so.”

When Snow was well she married the Prince and lived in his far away castle where she lives to this day. We can only hope that this story will end happily ever after. So far it looks promising.

That is the story. Do not question me about it again. Tell it to who you wish.

                                                                                                                                                Sincerely yours,

 John Green, the butcher

                                                                                                                              

I would NEVER kiss a frog...

This is a short movie we made a long time ago. It fit the "Once Upon A Time" theme...

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B6S6SS07zaP7YjN4czlBMW9Ga0E/edit?usp=drive_web

continuing

First Journey
Point Six

"Can we stop and rest?" Brenda wheezed.

"We don't have time!" growled Sir Icmath.

"Why the rush?" demanded Brenda. She still felt bad for leaving Hoe behind but she kept telling herself it was for the best. After all, he was safe at the cottage in a warm bed with a roof over his head. An uneasy feeling flooded her thoughts. He is safe, she continued telling herself. The only thing she did not understand was why she could not tell him goodbye.

"Done resting?" Sir Icmath glared at her impatiently. " We need to hurry!"

"But why?" Brenda wanted to know.

Uneasy lines spread across the knight's forehead, as he briskly muttered, "I don't want to run into some old friends."

"Friends or enemies?" pressed Brenda, beginning to walk on slowly.

"You can't stop asking questions, can you?" he complained.

"Nope!" laughed Brenda grinning from ear to ear.

"Remember what I told you before? I used to be knight for an evil group. The same group who ruined  your village. When I realized their real intentions I escaped. Now I'm taking you to the City of Fire so we can defeat them once and for all. You want to know why we're in a hurry. I think I'm being followed," he said the last bit in an undertone.

Shivers ran down Brenda's back.  "Followed?" her voice trembled.

"Yep!" Sir Icmath charged ahead with hardly a glance at Brenda.

Squaring her shoulders, Brenda charged after him determined not to show her fear. She looked behind her for one quick minute but saw nothing but the thick walls of trees and heard nothing but the breeze whispering. Sir Icmath must be mistaken, no one was following them.

They came to a dangerously fast moving river and Brenda expected Sir Icmath to turn around but he did not show surprise. A sharp wrinkle of defiance spread across his brow.

"We are not going to cross are we?" demanded Brenda hoping to hide the panic in her voice.

"There should be a raft somewhere around here!" Sir Icmath growled running back and forth along the rivers edge. "Where is it?"

"Is that your raft?" questioned Brenda pointing at wood object that peaked out from under a tangle of moss at the side of the river.

"That's it! I was starting to worry but sure enough, there it is," exclaimed Sir Icmath as he dragged it from the tangled mess.

Brenda gasped, "That thing is usable? It looks like it is about to fall to pieces. I am not going to get on that!"

"It is perfectly safe!" argued Sir Icmath motioning her to get on. "Now stop grumbling and hurry!"

"I can't!" Brenda wailed.

"I told you it was safe!" Sir Icmath was clearly not going to stop and recon with her. Before she could resist he pushed her onto the floating raft and jumped on after her.

From then on Brenda was fighting to keep her balance as cold water raced by under her finger nails. Inside she was battling the current of anger that Sir Icmath had stirred in her heart. Who was he who thought she was at his beck and call? The sickening reminder of how they had left Hoe behind kept growing. Ice cold water splashed against Brenda's cheek and stung her left eye. She blinked and dug her nails into the rough surface of the raft.

"You alright?" shouted Sir Icmath fighting the current with his paddles.

"What do you think?" Brenda yelled back.

The water dragged them down river but Brenda shut her eyes and clang for her life. When she felt the raft jolt to a stop her eyes flung open. She could not believe she was staring at firm ground.

"We're alive!" moaned Brenda.

"You had your doubts?" A mixture of amusement and shock stole across Sir Icmath's eyes.

"I thought we were dead!" Brenda cried her exasperation giving way.

"What were you scared of?" hissed Sir Icmath.

"Drowning! What did you think?" Brenda snapped wiping her wet face.

"Drowning!" Sir Icmath threw back his head and shook with laughter. "I guess in my haste I forgot to give you a life jacket. I had mine on."

Debating on whether to be mad or not, Brenda noticed for the first time Sir Icmath was wearing a bright red life jacket. She shot him a stony glare. He shrugged nonchalantly.

A splash and cries cut into there silence. Sir Icmath dragged Brenda behind the cover of some bushes and vine. From there they saw a tiny figure fighting the waters and shrieking for help. For a while Brenda did not recognize and then it hit her. He was Hoe.

"It's Hoe! We have to save hhhhmmm!" before she could finish Sir Icmath muffled her voice with his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shhhhh!" he growled. "It is to dangerous. We would be to late!"

Brenda fought to get lose. She tried to wave her arms and kick but her limbs fell limp under his resistance. There she watched helplessly as Hoe sunk underneath the water. Tears filled Brenda's eyes.

"Hold on!" something shouted.

Brenda heard splashes. She tried to twist herself around to see what was happening but Sir Icmath had pulled her back.

"Hoe is being rescued by our follower!" hissed the knight gravely."Maybe he has become useful after all."

"How?"squeaked Brenda sighing with relief.

"He distracted us from the enemy," whispered Sir Icmath.

Brenda tried to wriggle out of the knight's grasp but he held her still. "I meant how is he being rescued?"

"The enemy dragged him to safety. Listen Brenda," the urgency had returned to the knights face, "We need to make a move on. Your little friend is alive."

"But..." wailed Brenda uneasily"...if he is with the enemy then he is not safe! Sir Icmath, Hoe is in danger!!!"

"The enemy should not hurt Hoe! Now come on Brenda!" Sir Icmath urged.

"No!" declared Brenda. "I will not forsake Hoe! We have to rescue him! Sir Icmath, I will help you and so will he, if we save Hoe."

The knight's brow darkened. "Brenda, it is to risky!"

"Listen!" Brenda sighed. She felt panicky but determined not to leave Hoe's life in danger. She had to save the little boy. "Sir Icmath, if you help me save Hoe I will help you defeat the enemy whatever happens!" She tried to gather up courage. "I will help you even if it costs me my life." If she could only save him.

"That's not good enough!" Sir Icmath scowled. "If we rescue Hoe you must promise to be my slave for the rest of your life."

Brenda gasped. She knew the cost of being a slave in this country. Slaves wore a black permanent stamp on their right arm. It never wore off. Once a slave, always a slave. She was desperate, so the words slowly escaped in one breath. She promise to be Sir Icmath's slave if they rescued Hoe. In those few moments she whispered goodbye to freedom. If Hoe's life could be speared it was worth it, she persuaded herself.

"Common then!" Sir Icmath grunted and they started after Hoe.

A heaviness settled in Brenda's stomach.  

to be continued

Just an ordinary girl...

This is a little funny thing I wrote. Thought I would post it as I work on continuing the First Journey.

A magical castle, enter at your own risk...

I never expected my first petsitting job would end up like this...

"The No Stress Pet"

Somehow I, Kate Romaine, became the best animal-sitter ever. It all started on an unexciting, grey summer afternoon when the door bell rang. I was home babysitting my little sister. I marched to the front door and found myself face-to-face with my bizarre neighbor, Mrs.Green. 

“I have a problem?” she stated.

“Can I help?” I asked bluntly.

Mrs.Green fidgeted nervously, “I think my pet got into your house.”

“What? All the windows and doors are closed, Mrs.Green,” I assured her, feeling annoyed at her interruption. “If a pet shows up I’ll call you.”

“Well,” Mrs.Green looked embarrassed, “I saw it get in.”

How?” I demanded.

Mrs.Green sighed,“The chimney!”

I squinted at Mrs.Green,”Your crazy, right?”

“No,” she answered.

“I can reassure you there is no pet in my house!” I declared stomping my foot. “Don’t worry!”

“OK, but call me when you find her!” Mrs.Green murmured, taking a step back. “Oh and I think I should warn you...”

Suddenly, we heard a blood curdling scream. Terrified, I darted to the family room. Mrs. Green was right behind me. I froze staring at my little sister who stood a foot away from a huge tarantula.

“Kate, the spider is coming for me!” she shrieked.

I picked my sister up and dashed a safe distance away. Mrs.Green calmly picked up the scary creature and said, “Don’t worry! Penelope-Anastasia the second won’t bite. She’s soft and sweet.”

“That’s your pet?” I felt sick to my stomach.   

Mrs.Green smiled,“Do you want to hold her?”

I was not scared, I just wanted to play safe so I quickly answered,”No thanks!”

“She escapes sometimes!” Mrs.Green explained.

“I can see that!” I said feeling dizzy.

Mrs.Green laughed, “You know, if you want, you could watch her next week while I go to Texas. I would really appreciate it.”

I stared at the fuzzy spider and gulped, “I am not much of an animal person.”

“That’s fine!” Mrs. Green grinned and cried, “Penelope-Anastasia the second is so easy! All you have to do every day is feed her three times, take her on a walk, give her her vitamins, brush her hair, and play fetch with her. She’s a no stress pet! Thanks so much for offering! Tell you what, I’ll talk to you on Saturday!”

It took me a few minutes to realize Mrs.Green wasn’t joking.

“God tells us to love our neighbors,” I told my parents that night, “but He never says anything about loving their pets.”

“I think this is a wonderful opportunity!” said Dad. “By watching Anastasia-Penelope...”

“Penelope-Anastasia the second!” I reminded him. 

“...you are showing love to your neighbors,” Dad continued.

Mom smiled sadly, “Too many kids today pay attention to themselves more than serving others. You can show Christ’s love by helping Mrs.Green.”

My first day on pet-care duty was quite an adventure. First, I had to feed Penelope-Anastasia II disgusting dried insects. Then, I had to wait thirty minutes after she had finished eating to take her on her walk. Mrs.Green said it was a special precaution so she wouldn’t get cramps. With salad tongs, I lifted Penelope out of her cage. Sure, the tongs were unnecessary, but as my grandma always said, “Safety has it’s benefits!” Since it was cloudy, I decided to let Penelope take her walk inside. She raced all over the room. For half an hour, I let Penelope exercise. Then, I started chasing her around the room with salad tongs. You'd think she would be tired by then! She wasn’t. Finally, Penelope, thinking she could outsmart me, climbed on top of the bookshelf. I had to catch her so I climbed after her. After that I was cleaning up dusty books all afternoon. The shelf had toppled over and made a huge mess. When I was finally done, I realized Penelope was gone! I searched the entire room. By then, I was panicking. It’s bad enough losing your own pet, but it’s horrible losing someone else's. I searched Mrs. Green’s entire house, from the top to the bottom! I just could not accept that I had lost Penelope Anastasia II. At last, I collapsed on the sofa. I scratched my head to think. It was then that I felt something fuzzy on my ear. So much for salad tongs!

I learned that week sacrificing your time for someone else is not easy. God commands us to love one another even when it’s hard.   His Word says in Matthew 20:28 “...the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”