Michael T. Hare

The time has come. It is time to announce the winner of Festive! Let’s give a hand to………… Willow, whose story ‘The Heart of Children’ deftly and magically explored the ancient roots of Christmas!

I loved so many things about this story—among them the heartfelt relationship between the grandfather and his grandson—and after reading it, I looked back and realized I’d been picturing myself in my own grandparents’ house. In my opinion, that is one of the keys to good storytelling—to not only express a narrative, but to also make certain it relates to readers. Well done, Willow!

Be sure to visit Willow’s blog (The Faithful Wanderer) today, where she posts about faith, relationships, life, and more!

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The Heart of Children

By Willow

In a country far away there was a village. In the village was a cottage. And in the cottage was a family, eagerly awaiting the joys of Christmas day. Hanging up their stockings and placing last minute gifts under the tree. The little cottage was decorated with lights and garlands, strings of popcorn and cranberries, evergreen-scented candles, and a Nativity scene on the floor by the fireplace where a young boy of five sat. The little boy stared into the fire as he asked his grandfather, “Grandpa, why do we celebrate Christmas?”

His grandpa, a sweet old man with the humor of a young boy growled playfully, “So you can all give me lots of presents and good food!” He leaned down—as best as he could with his bad hip—and tickled his grandson who giggled and giggled, begging his grandfather to stop. Obliging him, Grandpa sat back in his chair, clasped his hands and crossed his legs and chuckled, “Very well. I’ll tell you why…”

So he began his story.

“A long, long time ago, God had an idea. He had made the earth and all that was in it. He watched the world and all its people. He loved them dearly. They were his favorite part of the world. But they needed his help. They were so confused and lost, and sometimes they didn’t make good choices. So God said to himself and his Son, ‘We’re going to help them because we love them so, so much.’”

The little boy watched his grandfather with wide, curious brown eyes. He’d heard this story before, he was sure of it.

“So God told his Son, ‘Will you go down to our family and help them?’ His Son knew it was a good idea so he agreed to go down.”
Grandfather eyed his grandson. “Does that explain why we celebrate Christmas?” The boy shook his head. Grandfather smiled as he boomed, “No, no, of course not! We need the whole story.”

“Now, there was a young girl named Mary.” As he was saying this, Grandfather reached down with a grunt and grabbed one of the figures from the Nativity scene, the figure of Mary the mother of Jesus.
“This is Mary,” he explained, handing her to the boy who examined her with curiosity.

“And this—” The grandfather grabbed another figure, Joseph, and handed him to the little boy. “This is Joseph. He and Mary were going to get married.” The little boy wrinkled his nose and his grandfather laughed. “I know, it’s yucky.” He poked the boy in the stomach and his grandson giggled as the old man continued the story.

“They were to get married. But before they got married, Mary had a special visitor. An angel. He told her, ‘You are going to have a very special baby. You will name him Jesus.’ The same angel visited Joseph to tell him, ‘She’s going to have a special baby. He is going to save the world.’ So they got married and traveled to Joseph’s hometown, where he was born. They found a barn and Mary had her baby there. They named him Jesus, just like the angel had told Mary to. And so Jesus grew up to be an adult, and he saved the world. Including you and me. When we celebrate Christmas, we are celebrating the birth of Jesus, our Savior.”
The grandfather booped the boy’s nose. “Does that answer your question?”

The little boy pondered this story. It sounded familiar. But his question had been answered so he nodded and hopped up from his seat by the fire. “Let’s celebrate!”

The two of them switched on the radio which began playing Christmas jams. Brenda Lee’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree was on, and so the grandfather and his grandson danced and bounced in their living room, jumping over their gifts and Nativity scene figures.

And that is the story of Christmas. A slightly abridged one for children, maybe, but it’s to the heart of children that the kingdom of heaven belongs to. And it most certainly belongs to this grandfather and his grandson.