It was a silent night because there are no words. Who could say its meaning? I once heard a song that said for each child that’s born the morning star sings a greeting, calling it by name. But on that night, whole hosts of angels sang. You can hear them still, in your heart, in the core of you, if you listen. Their song is right there, beneath your breath, pumping through your blood, saying you belong to the Yes and are of it, enveloped in its wondrous, infinite Love. And all It asks is that you pass it on. That’s its nature—to flow through all creation, every speck of it, even you, even me. Pass it on.
Have I told you lately that I love you? Oh, I know yours is a face I may have never seen, or maybe haven’t seen in years. I may not know your name or really anything about you. But you keep opening my little letters every week, so I know we share some things in common—the hope and aspiration that we will remember more often to be kind, that we’ll do our best to let go of mean old stories, that we’ll keep reaching for the best in ourselves, that we’ll hold on with every ounce of determination we can muster to keep faith in mankind despite the world’s evidence that mankind is a sorry lot.
It’s heart-warming to have like-minded friends. And that’s how I think of you, sitting there on the other side of this screen, hoping for words that will bolster you and make you walk through the week feeling stronger and better and maybe even happier and more at peace somehow.
I do my best, you know, to bring you those kinds of words. I don’t always succeed. But you keep reading anyway. It makes me think that you understand that we humans have our off days. We get tired. We get stressed. We catch cold. The cat throws up on the carpet again. Somebody pushes one of our crabby buttons. Yeah, you know. And so you open my email again the next week, or return here, to my blog, and give me another chance.
I imagine that you’re that way in real life, too—willing to overlook the shortcomings, to keep looking for the good, both in others and in yourself.
Anyway, I wanted to tell you that it means a lot to me that you trust me to say something valuable. It keeps me searching for scraps of wisdom that I can share, for signs and phrases that speak to the core of us and lift us up.
As I write this, Christmas is mere hours away. I confess that over the years I’ve grown more and more inclined to hold a hardy “Bah-Humbug” attitude toward the whole holiday season. It all seems so insane sometimes, the way we get swept up in some mindless effort to buy perfection, to impress. I think of my old friend, Henry, who said if he was made King of the World, the first thing he’d do is shout, “Stop it!”
But tonight, as I write this letter to you, I’m floating on a lovely wash of peace, and I have to admit that I’m getting a kick out of it all, this Christmas thing—even the mindlessness of it. I’m thinking it’s kind of wonderful, the way that people string colored lights to brighten the darkness, and how they go out of their way to entertain family and acquaintances they don’t really even like, how they spend money they don’t have to give presents because they want to say they care even when they only want to want to care. Oh, bless us all; we try so very hard!
But then there’s the other side of it, too. There’s the side that brings separated families together in a circle of love, and that opens the way for us to be charitable to those less fortunate than ourselves, that gives us a chance to say “I love you” to people without breaking social taboos, to say “I notice you” with a simple “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays.” You say that to the clerk you see every week in the store and all of a sudden you fall out of your roles and are just two people, connected, and wishing each other well. There’s the part of it that lets us truly wish for peace on earth and to imagine what we as a human family could achieve if our hearts truly were filled with good will for one another.
There’s no other time like it all year.
My wish for you is that you, too, will find yourself floating on a wash of peace—if only for a moment, for a day—and feel the beauty and joy and hope of it all wafting up from your heart.
At dusk, the gloom of the day suddenly gave way to a wash of color in the western sky. A blush of lavender and rose, it seemed somehow a sign of hope, a promise glowing through the calm and silent air. Christmas, I thought. That’s its message. That’s the promise. That’s the hope.
Festival Day had been a day of wonder and joy. Just to know that the Light was returning was all the woodland dwellers really wanted. But they received so much more.
The Elf King and the Spirits of Fun had them laughing all day long. They taught them the game of Laughing-for-No-Reason, and how to Laugh-with-the Wind. The Spirit of Honey and Hugs made sure everyone got their hugs, and Mother Mirth kept passing out her candied winterberries. The North Pole Elves even popped in again for one more chorus of their song.
The Elf King took time to visit with everyone, and after dinner, he gave each of the woodland’s elves a golden plaque engraved with his thanks for their unfailing merriment and service.
Then, just as the dusk was growing deep, the Elf King and Spirits of Fun hopped onto the landing platform, and waving goodbye, faded into the night.
When Little Pine got home, he shared mugs of birch cider with his mother and they chatted about their beautiful day. What a Festival Day it had been!
Then Mother Pine tucked Little Pine in for the night, kissing him on the forehead. “I love you, Little Pine,” she said.
“I love you, Mother, too,” he smiled.
As dreams began to overtake him, he saw some dancing golden stars. And the faces of the Elf King and the Spirits of Fun appeared, and said, “Thanks for the wonderful time, Little Pine. Remember, we’re always only a thought away.”
And with that, Little Pine drifted into a deep sleep, his heart full of love and joy.
On Festival Day, the dwellers of the woodland were awakened by the holly tree’s clear, sweet song, calling them to greet the morning.
Each of them put on their most beautiful garments, and after a light breakfast, waited for the procession to reach their homes.
A regal deer stood in the clearing beside the elves’ house, his breath frosty in the cold air. His horns were adorned with bells and streams of greens and berries, and he stood tall and proud. Soon the Elf King and the Spirits of Fun arrived and took their places behind him, with all the woodland elves forming the end of the line.
At the sound of the Mirth Elf’s horn, the deer stepped out, leading the parade from one home to another, with all of them singing the Festival songs in honor of the returning Light. As one dweller after another joined in the parade, the song grew richer and fuller until it echoed off the lake and ponds and shimmered through the trees. Every branch and twig quivered in joy to its sound.
Then the deer led the line of celebrants around the outer edges of the woods four times, to honor each of the past year’s seasons. And when the last round was complete, the parade marched to the end of the small pond where they encircled Grandfather Pine.
And there they sang once more their song of honor and welcome to the returning Light, and from the heavens, a beautiful angel descended above Grandfather’s crown, stars falling all around her.
“Greetings, dear children,” she said, gazing at them with a face full of tenderness. “I am the Angel of the Solstice, come to thank you for your praise. Having traveled to the end of its southward journey, today the Light indeed begins its return to your land. And with it, it brings the inspiration for all new beginnings that life may renew itself once more in your northern lands.
“Plan now how you will use the gifts it brings you to increase your growth and expand the world’s joy, for that is its purpose in shining. It beams the undying love of the Great Yes to you that you may fulfill all your potential and realize each of your heart’s true dreams, now and evermore, from form to form, from world to world, until you arrive at Love’s very heart.”
Then the angel faded away, and Grandfather himself led the final chorus of the song of honor to the Light.
“Well done, my friends,” he said as the song ended. “Now begin your celebration. Your feast awaits you. May your games be merry and your day be bright. And then, sweet ones, rest well and dream deeply, for winter is begun, and in our inner worlds, we have much to do to ready ourselves for spring. Think on the angels’ counsel and let your finest dreams reveal to you all that you may be.”
He nodded to the Mirth Elf, who blew his trumpet in a Joyous salute, and the deer, and Elf King, the Spirits of Fun, and all the elves, led the revelers back to the clearing where they feasted and played all day long.
None of the woodland dwellers had to think twice about Mother Mirth’s breakfast invitation. The dawn had hardly begun to light the sky as they headed toward the clearing beside the elves’ house. And what a sight greeted them when they arrived!
All the forest mothers had sent breakfast treats and Mother Elf and Mother Mirth were setting them out on long tables. Beautiful garlands of pine, fir, cedar and spruce decorated each one, and each one held a bouquet of mixed evergreens and holly. It was all so beautiful!
The Spirits of Fun were singing to the music that Matthew Mirth played on his horn, and the mood of excitement was growing in the clearing with every new arrival.
“Welcome! Welcome!” Mother Elf called to the woodland dwellers as they filed in. “Help yourself to some hot wintergreen tea while we wait for the King. It won’t be long now.”
When the sun rose over the woodland’s eastern slopes, a hush fell over the crowd. Everybody found a seat and watched with wide eyes as the landing platform began its vibration. The crowd vibrated right along with it. And when it suddenly stopped and a shower of golden stars began to tumble all around them, they stood and cheered. Matthew Mirth played a royal greeting on his horn.
And then, from the star-spangled darkness, a shiny strand of red and gold berries stretched down, and they watched in suspense as a small, furry critter of some kind slid down its length, wearing an elegant green coat and a bright golden crown.
The elves burst into laughter at the sight of him and began rolling on the ground holding their sides as if someone had just told them the funniest joke in the world.
The Elf King stepped onto the platform from his rope of berries, spread his arms wide, and bowed to the woodland dwellers. “Hello,” he said, in a warm and gentle voice. His furry face wore a look of tender kindness, the likes of which none had ever seen before.
The woodland dwellers just blinked and stared for a moment. They hadn’t known what to expect, but all of them thought the Elf King would be far larger, and that he would probably look like the woodland elves. This little Elf King took them quite by surprise.
Finally, Teddy, the eldest elf, broke the silence. “Hey, Little Elf King! Welcome!” he said, leaping onto the platform and shaking the Elf King’s paw. “We’re so honored that you have come!” And the crowd, awakened from their surprise, started clapping and singing, “Welcome! Welcome!”
Mikey Mirth stepped onto the platform and handed the King a microphone. The King smiled and thanked him.
“Greetings, my friends,” he said in his gentle voice. “And thank you for your warm welcome! It’s my special pleasure to be here in your woodland for the Festival of Light this year.
“As you may know, the Spirits of Fun and I visit a different woodland every year to honor its local elves for their joyous and loyal service. And I have received reports that your elves are among the finest in the world.”
The crowd stood again and cheered.
“They are the servants of the seasons, helping buds to open, and painting the flowers and leaves with their colors. They carry dew drops to the blades of grass in the springtime and lead mother birds to the finest materials for their nests. They sing to the crops in summer and play with the hard-working bees. They direct traffic for the ants and help them find their way when they have gone astray. They decorate the forest’s floor and hang fungus on the trees. They paint the leaves in autumn. And they love their work, and sing with merriment every single hour of the day. Aren’t they grand!”
Once again, the crowd rose and cheered.
“Elves live all over the world. They come in different colors and forms. But everywhere, they are known for their industry, humor and playfulness. They remind us that life is a celebration—every day of it.
“I am proud to be their king, and happy that my most important duty is to tell them that we see their work and adore their joy and believe with all our hearts that life wouldn’t be the same without them.
“Thank you, woodland elves, for all that you do,” the King said, bowing deeply.
And the crowd roared in agreement, laughing and clapping until the King held up his hand. “You are wonderful members of a beautiful woodland community,” he said. “Now let’s all have some breakfast and you can show me around.”
That night, Little Pine fell asleep with a hundred images from the past few days swirling through his mind. The arrival of the Spirits of Fun seemed almost too magical to be true. And yet he had laughed and played with them from morning until night for days.
They had romped throughout the woodland, carrying songs and laughter to its farthest reaches, greeting everyone they met along the way. The Festival of Light was always a special time of year, but with their presence it was more joyous than ever.
He wished they could stay forever. But he knew they would have to return to their own world at the Festival’s end. Even so, he was overjoyed that he had met them. And tomorrow, on Festival Day’s Eve, the Elf King would be coming! What would that be like?
His thoughts danced around for a while, and then Little Pine drifted into dreams.
Overhead, stars glistened softly in a velvety black sky, and, above him, Little Pine saw a beautiful white bird settle onto one of the branches of his mother tree. “Hello, Little Pine,” she sang.
“Hello, white bird!” he said. “Who are you?”
“I am The Wishing Bird,” she said. “I collect the wishes of the children of Earth. As the year draws to its close and the Festivals of Light are celebrated, many wishes arise from Earth’s beings. I gather them and translate them into the true wishes of the heart. Then I deliver the true wishes to Dream Central, which works to help wishes come true.”
“What do you mean by the true wishes of the heart?” Little Pine asked.
“Well, sometimes what you think you’re wishing for isn’t what you truly want. A sparrow might wish for bright, blue feathers, for example. But what she really wants is to feel beautiful. Or a squirrel might wish for a wolf’s howl when what his heart wants is to know that someone hears him when he speaks. Sometimes a dandelion will wish she could live in a fine garden and wear the petals of a rose. But what she really truly wants is to remember how important and valuable she is and to know that she brings joy to the world.”
“Oh!” Little Pine said. “It’s sort of like you find the wish inside the wish, right?”
“Very good, Little Pine,” she said. “You are a wise little tree.
“You know, as I was flying here, I heard you make a wish. Do you remember it?”
Little Pine thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, I wished that the Spirits of Fun could stay in our woodland forever. And I really, really do!”
Wishing Bird laughed a gentle little laugh and said, “Would you like to know what I hear your heart truly saying?”
“Sure!” said Little Pine. He didn’t think his heart could want anything different.
“Your heart wants for you always to have joyous companions and an enduring spirit of fun. And I can promise you, Little Pine, that your heart’s wish has already been granted. You see, once you have tasted fun, you can always choose to find it again. And your own sense of fun will bring out the joy in every one of your companions.
“As for the Spirits of Fun themselves, they are never any farther than a thought away. And that is true for everyone who ever meets them or even imagines that they exist.”
And with that, the Wishing Bird faded into the stars, and Little Pine slept happily through the night.
In the morning, a whole parade of curious woodland dwellers headed over to the elves’ house to see what this magical communicator was all about. They had never heard of such a thing.
As they arrived, the Squirrel Spirit invited them to sit in front of the strange machine that was perched on the landing platform. Mikey Mirth was fiddling around with knobs and buttons on the machine and his brother was making music on his golden horn. It was such a happy sound, that everybody started clapping and humming along with its tune.
When everyone had arrived and was seated, Mother Mirth stood up to speak. “Here,” she said, handing her bowl of candied berries to the rabbit who was sitting at the end of the row. “Pass these around.”
She giggled for a moment and then said, “While we wait for Mikey to tune in our broadcast, let me tell you about what you’ll be seeing.
“We Spirits of Fun have been to hundreds and hundreds of places on your amazing world to join in your Festivals of Light. It’s called different things in different places and honored with many different customs, but it is celebrated with joy everywhere.
“In your part of Earth, many of the humanimals call it Christmas, and in their tradition, a great fatherly spirit they call Santa Claus brings gifts to all the children to show them that they are loved. Santa has a workshop in a dimension they call The North Pole where he makes all the gifts with the help of some specialized elves.
“These elves are members of our troupe of The Spirits of Fun. And when they heard that we were coming to your woodland, they asked us to bring the communicator so they could greet you. They’re especially fond of the elves you have here, because they’re always so merry, you know.”
The crowd burst into applause in agreement, and all the woodland elves blushed a little.
“We’re ready!” Mikey said. And all at once, on the big screen of the red communicator, a North Pole elf appeared. The crowd hushed as he began to speak. It was almost as if he were right there in person. How amazing!
“Greetings, Earthlings! We’re so happy to be visiting your woodland this year to be a part of your Festival of Light! It’s a very busy time of year for us, but while Santa is planning his travels, we have time to give you the present of a song we wrote especially for you.”
The North Pole elf bowed and the scene flashed to a group of workshop elves with an elf penguin standing in snow and singing this song:
Merry, merry Festival, children of the Earth! May your faces wear bright smiles and your hearts be filled with mirth. Each one of you is special, a child of the Great Yes, And now He comes to hold you in the Light of His caress. The Light of Life is coming to begin a brand new year; May its radiance enfold you in love and warmth and cheer. Merry, merry Festival, children of the Earth! May your faces wear bright smiles and your hearts be filled with mirth.
The Spirits of Fun were dancing to the North Pole elves’ song, and as it ended and the scene on the communicator faded, the whole audience stood and clapped and whooped with joy. What a wonderful gift! What a wonderful song!
Mother Mirth stepped onto the platform and asked for everyone’s attention. “We’re so glad you enjoyed the North Pole elves’ song! May it ring in your hearts all day long.
“I know that you have many final preparations to make for tomorrow’s Festival Day, so we will wrap up our gathering. But before you go, let me invite you to share breakfast with us in the morning. We have word now that the Elf King will be arriving at sunrise.”
Another cheer went up from the crowd and as they began to head to their homes, the Mirth Spirit with the horn played the tune of the elves’ song, and everyone sang it, over and over, all the rest of the day.
Little Pine and the elves held their breath as the platform started vibrating again. Then, Poof! In a shower of stars and music, three mice-like spirits appeared. Three at once! That was a good trick.
“Hey, Merry Eartlings! We’re the Spirits of Music and Mirth!” they chimed in music-box voices. “We’ve brought boogie and baubles and treats to usher in the Light with you! Let’s party!”
They jumped down from the platform and started to dance. “C’mon! Join in!” they laughed. And pretty soon Little Pine and the elves were caught up in their magic. Around and around they all twirled, spinning until they were laughing so hard they fell down in a pile.
Once they caught their breath again, the Spirits of Music and Mirth and the elves and Little Pine introduced themselves. They already felt like old friends, but they were polite and wanted to know each other’s names.
As they had done with the other visitors, the elves invited this trio to lunch and offered them a tour of the woodlands. Then they would let them get settled in. The beavers, Teddy Elf explained as they ate, had constructed a lovely little lodge at the pond’s edge where the visiting Spirits of Fun could sleep and entertain visitors and enjoy the seeds, nuts and berries the woodland’s animals had gathered for their cupboards.
Mikey Mirth, the fellow who had brought the big red bulb, asked if he could leave it at the elves’ house, by the platform. He and Squirrel Spirit would hook it up after dinner, he said.
“Hook it up?” Teddy Elf asked. “What do you mean? Do you want to hang it somewhere? We can help.”
“Oh,” said Mikey, “It’s not a decoration. When we plug it into the platform, it will open into a special communicator screen. Some members of the Spirits of Fun troupe are on special assignment. But they have a surprise for you and we’ll use the communicator to connect with them tomorrow. You’ll see,” he giggled. “We should be able to reach them right after breakfast.”
“Is everyone invited?” Teddy asked.
“Why, sure!” Mikey said. “It’s going to be great!”
Little Pine volunteered to invite everybody from the lake and ponds while the elves were taking the visitors on their tour of the woodlands.
After they finished the last crumbs of their lunch, Mother Mirth offered the candied berries that she had brought with her as a dessert. As soon as they took a candy from her bowl, another one magically took its place. The elves took turns plucking a candy from the dish and watching a new one appear and every time it happened it made them laugh.
Matthew Mirth, the musician among them, started playing a foot-tapping tune as the elves led them down Holly Trail. Little Pine could hear them all singing as he skipped down the shortcut to the lake.
These Spirits of Fun, he decided, were very well-named indeed.
A card on my bulletin board says, “Look around you. Appreciate what you have. Nothing will be the same in a year.” I see it every day and although it doesn’t always register in my awareness, it’s truth has had its impact. Look back a year ago in your own life. See for yourself.
A quiet voice inside me says, “Collect these moments. In time they will be cherished memories, much as your memories of childhood are. They will remind you where you have traveled on your journey, the places of delight and joy, the places of darkness and sorrow, the people you’ve known and the stories you wrap around them, the way your view of life evolved as you lived it, each experience nourishing it, feeding it, how you asked it questions, and learned to hear the answers that spoke to your heart.”
The other day I heard a little group of people talking about how time feels like it’s passing more quickly. After a few speculations about it the conversation turned to whether we’re on a sphere or a disc or inside a giant spaceship. Finally, a woman ended it by rolling her eyes and proclaiming, ”Well, whatever this is we’re on, it sure has spedded up.”
Yes, hasn’t it! And it shows no sign of slowing down. Change is happening at such a rapid pace that there’s no time for adjustment. There’s only what’s in front of you, and even that’s in a state of accelerating change.
Another phrase that caught my ear recently was uttered by a space launch broadcaster as the rocket on the wall-sized screen she was facing blew up. She called it an “unexpected rapid disassembly.” It sure was! And interestingly, it rather describes the general state of life as we’ve known it as well. We’re not, I’m sure you’ve noticed, in Kansas anymore.
If you think the world is growing increasingly incomprehensible, you’re right. The familiar is melting away faster with every passing day. Everywhere, cultures have changed, cherished traditions have faded away, words and symbols no longer mean what they did. The statement, “Everything you know is wrong,” seems to grow more and more true as even the practice of science itself is not what we knew it to be. It can be easy to lose your bearings sometimes.
But here’s a secret: You can still be happy. You can still love, and forgive, and laugh. You can still be grateful that you get to experience this life, your life, with everything it holds.
That’s what the little sign on my wall taught me. I still work toward the achievements I want to attain. I still scan future possibilities as if the world will remain stable long enough to allow them. I still believe in happy endings. And sometimes I take time to look around, and to appreciate everything around me, to truly appreciate it. Because, a year from now, everything will have changed.
Look around, not only with your eyes but with your heart, and put all you see on a special shelf in your mind, in the corner that holds all your memories. Because memories matter. They will bring you strength, and comfort, and courage in the days ahead.
