Once Upon a Child's Heart

Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, and even though we haven’t even had Thanksgiving yet, the truth is that before Thanksgiving is the time to start prepping for the Advent season. Especially since this year it begins on Sunday, December 1st—just a couple of days after Thanksgiving. With Thanksgiving and Black Friday, I tend to forget about preparing for Advent. Do yourself a favor this year: sit down now and gather whatever you need to prepare your family for the greatest story of them all—the Christmas story! Don’t make it elaborate. Think simple. Choose something you can do easily every day. Something that won’t take you hours to put together. This is what my family does. We read an Advent storybook every night. This year, it is Tabitha’s Travels . This story is so good that it really could be the only thing we do for Advent. It is full of suspense, wonder, action, and heart challenge. It has something for all ages.  However, it can be a little intense for younge...

Chapter 11 Dragon’s Tongue & Hag’s Feet By Kristen S. Sandoz 2013 Let us take a trip to a much happier story than the one of Little John I last told. Of course, this means we must head back to the Witch Hazel’s cottage—incidentally called Butterbrick Cottage . Why is it called Butterbrick, you ask? Well, that is because their sweet Jersey cow made the most fabulous sweet cream butter, which Pearl would store in crocks all throughout the year. This butter was of such high quality that it aged beautifully, becoming—over time—the most delicious butter you could ever imagine. These days, the butter you find in little boxes at the store, with its pale, lifeless yellow color, does not even begin to compare. Pearl would sell her butter in tidy little bricks from the front step of the cottage—bright, rich, deep yellow, and tasting like heaven itself. And so, the cottage came to be known as Butterbrick. The name may not come from an exciting tale, but I imagine you wish you could h...

One day, I walked into an antique store in Hailey, Idaho. The only thing I really remember from that visit is a painting. It was tucked high up in a peaked rafter—easy to miss—but it caught my eye. It was of a small child crying. I fell in love with it. I’m sure my newly awakened mother’s heart had something to do with it—Thing 1 was only 18 months old at the time. But we were broke, so I left the store without it. Six months later, I unwrapped that very same painting for my birthday. It was no small feat for my sweet and thoughtful husband to get it, especially since we were living in the Willamette Valley—nearly 13 hours away. When I opened it, I cried. That painting has hung in various places in our home for the past eight years. At first, I put it in our dining room, not realizing what a conversation piece it would become. Almost everyone who sat at our table asked the same question: “What do you think she’s crying about?” (As it turns out, it was a little girl—but from th...

Hey Friends!  Just wanted to let you know that I did the final edit on this one myself in order to get it out faster.  Editing is not my strong suit so I hope you can forgive any mistakes and just enjoy this important story.  My boys had plenty of things to say about this story.  Some were very profound.  I'd love to hear what thoughts you and your kids have regarding this story so feel free to leave a comment. Happy Tales! Kristen Ch. 10 The Bane of Little John By Kristen S. Sandoz 2013 I think now it is a good time to tell you the story of Little John.   Oh, I know you have already heard part of his story.   He was a bandit who helped rob from the rich to give to the poor.   A seemingly honorable occupation, but a bandit he was and one does not merely become a bandit, a thief, or a lying beggar overnight.   We must always remember that everyone has a story and some stories are not happy ones.   Some are complic...

Ch. 9 The Young Duke Monstroke There are so many stories to be told of these happy and sometimes not so happy characters that I struggle to keep on a straight course.   I am going to diverge for a moment, or possibly more, if my mind wanders, and introduce to you one of my least favorite fellows in these tales.   His name is Monstroke. Why do I not like young Duke Monstroke, you ask?   Well, mostly because he is selfish and really never thinks of anyone but himself.   It is so very hard to like a selfish person. He is what the fantasy world calls an "evil villain" and the psychology world calls a "narcissist."   In short, he thinks the universe revolves around him and is impossibly blind to the hurts or cares of anyone around him--including, and most especially, animals.   His selfishness drives him to cruelty without hesitation.   He only thinks of his own self-preservation.   In his mind everyone is against him.   I am sorry to say ...

Go.   Heal Thyself, Girl! A story of personal healing Ever since I gave birth to Thing 1 I’ve struggled with slouching.   I figured it was a combination of things;     engorged breasts, that would have won money in a wet t-shirt contest, muscle fatigue from holding a well fed baby, and stomach muscles that had been stretched beyond reason.   Two more babies and nine more years under my belt and I’m still struggling with slouching.   In fact it’s been getting worse.   For at least the last year and a half I’ve been consciously trying to fix the problem.   I check in with myself regularly throughout the day, “Am I slouching?   Yes!   Stop that!” I’ve been working on my core trying to bolster those muscles and give my shoulders a break.   All to no avail.   What is my problem?   I was a dancer for heaven sake.   Dancers don’t slouch!   They have lovely posture (and small breasts, I might a...

My boy's school did an End-of-the-Year-Book-Exchange.  It was a HUGE success!  There were piles and piles of books and piles and piles of kids.  My boys brought home a backpack full each of new-to-them books.  Some of them will definitely be keepers.  The rest we'll just send back next year.  I think I might have been more excited about the book exchange than my boys.  And next year I might even volunteer to help with it.  It was that cool! A used book exchange is a brilliant idea for the summer.  I am so pleased to be a part of a school which has some amazing creativity!  The best part is that it is something anyone could  do.  So if your school doesn't do a book exchange or you just need a fresh pile of books try this idea. The concept is easy.  Invite a good handful of friends or neighborhood kids to bring all the books they are done reading and ready to pass on to someone else to your back yard. ...

Ch. 8: A Friendship & a Name Kristen S. Sandoz 2013   Besides the Witch Hazel’s nasty hens there were plenty of other animals at the cottage who had less pernicious stories to tell.   But I will save that for another day.   For now let me just give you a roll call of the others.    There were two majestic roosters who did not always get along, the older rooster having one blind eye which made him all the more cocky.   Then there was the sweet old Jersey cow who gave her milk faithfully and without complaint each morning.   Her name was Blue and everyone loved her.   She had tender doe eyes with long lashes and she listened with a mother’s ear to anyone who talked to her.    Brother was the old mutt, who mainly slept on the hearth until he was kicked off by the cat. Then he would move to the sunny cottage step where he could keep an eye on the comings and goings as he dozed.     Pearl and Hazel also ke...

I am so excited to be spreading the word about a young college student named Kelly Cook.  I have watched Kelly grow up since grade school and she is an incredible talented and creative person.  She is working on publishing a book that she wrote AND illustrated.  It is an absolutely beautiful book!  The Might-Fine Adventure of Piper and Floyd is about, Piper, a girl who loves to explore, and Floyd, a giraffe that "honks", embark on this detour-turned-adventure story.  View the link below to have part of the story read to you and for an opportunity to support Kelly. Happy Tales Kelly! Love, Kristen Click HERE to support Kelly on her Kickstart site!

So much joy comes for me with Spring!  Just the sheer knowledge that I made it through the dark and gloomy Oregon winter is enough to send my heart soaring.  But Spring's gifts do not stop there, Easter, a steady unfurling of flower blossoms, off and on sunshine with fresh pourings of rain, and the endless opportunities to work in my yard.  I feel so alive! This week I'm working on my garden.  Today I started a Three Sister's Planting.  This is an Native American tradition of mindfully planting corn, beans, and squash.  Before I started planting I did a Google search to get more information on how and why this is done.  What I found on it was so interesting I wanted to pass it on here. At first, I thought this page was too "Thanksgivingy" to post in Spring.  Then I realized the only reason the Pilgrims and Natives were able to have a feast in the fall was because they planted in the Spring.  Their planting technique was unique to No...

Ch. 7: The Nasties By Kristen S. Sandoz 2013 Some time ago I began to tell you about Justly's quest to find a new place to sleep for himself and his new pup.  They had been outcast from the Royal City on account of the pups imperfect eye color.  The pup had one flame orange eye and one ice blue eye and this was entirely unacceptable for a hound of the King.  Justly had saved the pup from an untimely death on account of this imperfection.  As a result Justly had to leave the city and his warm comfortable bed under the Baker's oven.  Last time Justly had just fallen asleep under an ancient walnut tree to a lullaby from a lovely voice and finally drifting of into a splendid dreaming about his mother.  Now, on with our story. The voice that sang Justly to sleep belonged to our beloved Pearl and in the morning Justly heard Pearl’s voice again, along with a robust and craggy alto, and knew instantly that he was in the presenc...

The Egg By Kristen S. Sandoz 2013   The other day my five-year-old son had a friend over and they spent a lot of time with our hens.   Later that day when I went to check on the ladies I found two eggs smashed against the fence and evidence of a cover up.   If you have ever raised your own chickens you know how precious eggs are.   I was not happy about this and handled the whole thing very poorly.   That night I was really disturbed by my reaction and it brought to mind an experience I had as a five year old.   It was small, black, exquisitely hand painted, and edged with gold gilding.   It was lovely and delicate much like a teacup with gold trim.   You know the kind that even as an adult you’re afraid to touch its dainty handle with your comparatively large and clumsy fingers.   Only a teacup doesn’t quite compare with the fragility of nature.   In my hand I was holding an egg.   It was a gift to my mother f...