The Greatest Story of them All!

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 younger children.

We light an Advent wreath at dinner and eat by candlelight. Then we take our (fake) Advent candles to our bedrooms so we can read our story and fall asleep by candlelight.

We also do a sock calendar countdown each morning. The boys take turns removing a sock from our garland. What the sock garland contains differs from year to year—sometimes manger pieces, sometimes small toys. It’s a mystery, just like Christmas. If we have a busy day and miss a story, we catch up the next night. No big deal.

One other little thing we do to make Advent special is eat pomegranates only during Advent and the twelve days of Christmas. My boys probably get more excited about pomegranates than candy canes. It’s amazing what a little withholding does for their perception.

Even this small amount of preparation takes a wee bit of planning. If I don’t get it done before Thanksgiving, I’ll be staying up late trying to pull it together afterward—and that just doesn’t work for me anymore. I take all the Thanksgiving ads as my cue to start Advent prep now! I keep everything in a labeled bin and store it where I can get to it easily. Really, for me, getting it out is the hardest part. After that, I get inspired.

Happy Tales to you and yours this coming Advent season!

Kristen

P.S. I’m not above begging. I’d love to have some comments from anyone—even your dogs. If you do anything special for Advent, I’d love to hear about it. Please, please, please! It would help me feel like I’m not just posting to talk to myself.

Note: I have three boys. I’ve found that our Advent time goes much better if I don’t try to make them sit still and quiet while listening to the story. We let them play Legos, draw, or do something with their hands—as long as it doesn’t hype them up or disturb others. In the past, we’ve taken ourselves too seriously, and let me just tell you, nothing good came of it. Don’t make the same mistake.

Ch. 11: Dragon's Tongue & Hag's Feet

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 have tasted some of that butter.

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At Butterbrick Cottage, we find Pearl busy at work. She is quite a sight—with her blackened apron, disheveled hair, and rug beater in hand—it is hard to remember she is of royal heritage.

One thing I admire about Pearl is that she is not afraid to get her hands dirty with a good, honest day’s work.

Today she is beating the rugs—a task that requires a great deal of gusto and is especially satisfying when one is feeling a bit frustrated… as Pearl happens to be at the moment. But that is another story, and I will not wander down that path just now. Perhaps you will hear it one day.

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For now, Pearl has been cleaning the cottage since sunrise, preparing it for Hazel’s return. The Witch Hazel has been away on a long journey, collecting a rare healing herb in full harvest on the far side of the kingdom, in the Numinous Mountain range.

This herb—known as Dragon’s Tongue—is found only in that region and can be gathered just once every seven years, and only at precisely the right time.

Healing herbs can be rather persnickety, requiring careful gathering and storage to preserve their properties. Dragon’s Tongue is even fussier—its harvest window both brief and long in coming.

To make matters worse, it is dangerous work.

The herb is a favorite among the dragons who dwell in the Numinous Mountains. It is, in fact, a wildflower with deep indigo petals that form a cup and droop toward the ground like a sad little puppy. From the center hangs a bright orange stamen, curled into a spiral—much like the tongue of a dragon.

The dragons adore it.

The petals and stamen are sweet, and if eaten in large quantities, will send them into the most pleasant delirium. They hoard the flowers and guard them fiercely. One can always tell when a dragon has indulged, for its tongue will be stained a brilliant blue.

Fortunately, a dragon in such a state can be persuaded to do almost anything.

Some say gold and treasure are a dragon’s weakness. I say it is Dragon’s Tongue. The former makes them greedy and mean—the latter, giddy and nearly tame.

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I should also tell you that Dragon’s Tongue makes a most beautiful dye. However, it requires such a great quantity to color even a single garment that it is a hue reserved only for royalty. In this kingdom, the blue and orange of Dragon’s Tongue belong to the King and his family, and no one else may wear those colors together.

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The journey to the Numinous Mountains is long, and the work is hard. Hazel had been gone a fortnight when one of her doves arrived at Butterbrick Cottage with a message for Pearl: she would return home on the evening of Saturn’s Day.

Pearl knew Hazel would be tired and worn from her travels. She wanted to ease her return by having Butterbrick in perfect order. It was one small way to show her kind and faithful aunt how deeply she was loved.

But Pearl had more planned than a tidy cottage.

She knew the most loving thing she could do for Hazel was to tend to her tired, aching feet (and Hazel, you should know, was not a small woman—her feet complained loudly about it).

If we could peer into the deepest part of Pearl’s heart, we would discover this was the one task she dreaded most—even more than mucking out the pig pen.

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Pearl’s dread was not unfounded.

I think any child her age—boy or girl—might recoil at the sight of the Witch Hazel’s old, worn feet. They were the one part of Hazel—aside from her wrinkled face, crooked nose, knobby hands, and crackling voice—that truly lived up to the title of witch.

Nay… they went well beyond witch and into hag territory.

I will spare you a detailed description—it would be too disrespectful. But if you imagine your own grandmother’s cracked, weathered feet… and then add a generous helping of “Old Hag,” you will have some idea.

Now tell me honestly—would you want to wash those feet?

Neither did Pearl.

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And yet, this is where the weeds are separated from the flowers.

Pearl was a true princess.

Despite her dread, she knew how much this small act meant to her aunt. And so, she did it anyway. Not only did she do it—she did it with joy.

Pearl understood something many do not: that Hazel gave much to the world and received very little in return. Who was there to care for her? Who was there to love her?

No one… except Pearl.

So, like the daughter of a true king, Pearl held her head high, smiled her sweetest and most genuine smile, sang a gentle melody, and washed the Witch Hazel’s weary feet without a hint of complaint.

That, my friends, is a true princess.

And a true prince would do the same.

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As you can see, true love is a testing pursuit—and our Pearl is passing the test beautifully.

1…Now my story is done.

2…I love you!

3…Please, kiss me.