Christmas Gifts

When I was a small girl, I asked my dad, "Why do we give presents to each other when it is Jesus' birthday?"

He answered, "Because we are supposed to see Jesus inside each other. In that way, we are giving presents to Jesus on His birthday."

Decades have passed since that answer and, while my dad passed away years ago, I still find value in those words.

In my youth, I strove to find the best gifts I could afford, as that is what Jesus deserves.

Now I reflect in my heart what Jesus/Yeshua truly wants on the day we celebrate His birth. He's already given us His wish list ~ and it's a short one:

• Love God
• Love each other

Christ our Lord is not looking for the most elaborate or most expensive gifts, or a pile of them under a well-decorated tree. He asks that we love one another.

Often that includes Forgiving someone who has hurt us, spending TIME with each other, and creating beautiful memories ~ with family, friends, and even those we do not know.

Share the Wonders of Love
As does our God Above 

~ ESA

Little Crow's Discovery (Story)

Once there was a little crow who lived in a nest deep in the woods. As the little crow grew, she discovered that there were very few like her.

The birds around her had wondrous variety of color on their heads and wings, backs and tails. The red-headed woodpecker tapped at the truck above her nest and the brightly colored blue jay and cardinal danced from branch to branch, resting on their springtime journey north. She extended her wing before her and looked down at her breast and saw only black feathers. She was black beak to tail.

Sitting dejected in her nest, she could hear the voices of the other birds. Most were gifted with many fine melodies by the Creator, and they sang of life’s glory with their lilting voices. The little crow opened her beak to try singing too, but only a course “Caw Caw” rose from her throat. Horrified, she snapped her beak shut and shuddered. This was no singing voice. She huddled deeper into her nest.

A silly mockingbird alighted on a nearby branch, and proudly demonstrated all the various mimicries she could do. This only made the little crow feel worse, and she turned her back on the mockingbird. She tucked her dark head under her wing, and let the wracking sobs choke through the pathetic coarse sounds in her throat.

A robin was passing over the treetops and heard the little crow’s cries. She dipped beneath the leafy canopy and pine boughs to find the little crow’s nest. “Why do you weep, little crow? It’s such a lovely day. Come, fly with me in the sunshine."

The little crow peeked from under her wing with tear-filled eyes. “This day may be beautiful for one like you, but it isn’t for me."

The robin cocked her head inquiringly and settled herself more securely on the nearby branch. “The sun shines for you as it does for me."

"But what is there when the sun shines on me? I’m ugly! All the other birds have all these beautiful colors, but I am black from beak to tail."

The robin chirped her laughter merrily, “Why, little crow, look at me. The males of my kind may have a prominent red breast, but I am brown like my sisters. I have no bright colors, but I still have something to contribute to this world."

"Yeah,” cawed the crow, “you have that beautiful voice of yours. Listen to mine. I cannot sing like you."

"You have something to share with this world too. The Creator had a plan for you when he made you. You just have to spread your wings and find it."

The little crow hunkered down deeper into her nest. “I don’t think I can; there’s nothing to find."

The robin sighed and spread her wings, fluttering off to find some worms for her meal. But she returned to the little crow’s side day after day, trying to coax her out of the nest.

Now what the little crow did not know is that many had taken interest in her. The pines and other trees spread their branches, protecting the little crow from the spring storms that rolled across the lands. They rocked their branches in the wind, trying to sing her soothing melodies and lullabies with their gently creaking boughs. But she would see and hear none of these. Why would the trees care about one little crow?

The woodland animals often listened to her mournful cries as she spoke with the robin and tried to think of some way to help. They called up to her nest asking her to come out. Some, like the chipmunk and squirrel, even climbed up the tree, sitting on a nearby branch to speak with her. When they left, she felt even more alone and refused to leave her nest.

At last the animals and the trees put their minds together and came up with a plan. They went to Coyote for help. Coyote wasn’t too pleased to be awoken from his nap, but when the trees and the animals collectively insisted, he stretched his lithe frame and said, “Show me where this little crow is.”

They led Coyote to the base of the tree and he sat on his haunches and called up, “Little crow, why are you still hiding in your nest?”

Surprised that he had come all this way just to speak with her, she peered over the brim of her nest. “There is no reason for me to come out.”

“Come with me, little crow, there is something I must show you.”

She hesitated, “No, you are just here to trick me. People say they care, but they really don’t.”

“Suit yourself, but you shall miss seeing one of the most remarkable sights in this land. There isn’t much time to see it, and I thought you would want to be there.” With these words, he rose up on all four paws and sauntered down the path.

Curious, she watched him as far as she could from the nest. Then with a quick look around her, she leapt from the nest and followed at a discrete distance, soaring from tree to tree with ease.

When he paused at the edge where the woods met a large open meadow, she landed on a nearby branch and called down. “Where is this remarkable sight? This is just a meadow.”

“Oh, it’s found in the meadow,” he replied, “but you need something magical to see it.”

“Oh?” She hopped down a few branches closer to him. “What?”

“Come closer, little crow, and I will show you.”

She hopped down a few more branches, a bit nervous to be so close to those sharp teeth. “What?” she repeated.

“This!” He leapt up and snapped at the little crow, causing her to fly up abruptly. When he landed on the ground Coyote held one of her black feathers in his teeth.

Horrified and shaken, she settled on the highest branches, knowing he could not get her there.

But he seemed to loose interest in her and, instead, trotted out to the center of the meadow. There he held the lone back feather up to the sky and smiled, gazing intently at it.

“Where is this remarkable sight?” she called out to him.

“I’m looking at it,” he replied. “Come and see.”

“All I see is my black feather; there is nothing remarkable in that.”

Coyote looked over at her with knowing eyes and then returned his gaze to the feather. “Come and see.”

She ruffled her feathers, still shaken by his earlier actions. But she had also heard legends about Coyote’s wisdom…. She hopped down to the lower branches and leaned forward, trying to decipher what he saw.

Her friend, the robin, alighted on the branch beside her. “What is he doing?” she wondered aloud.

Coyote smiled back at the robin, “I’m looking at one of the most remarkable sights in this land. Come and see it.”

The robin cocked her head curiously and fluttered down to the meadow. She timidly hopped over to his side and gazed up at the black feather. What she saw brought tears to her eyes and she just stood there, awestruck.

The little crow called out, “What do you see, friend robin?”

“It’s beautiful…. so beautiful….” was all that her friend could chirp.

Coyote smiled down at the robin and back to the little crow, beckoning her, “Come and see.”

She landed on the ground and little by little hopped her way apprehensively toward Coyote. She kept looking at the lone black feather he held aloft – a dark smudge against a perfectly blue sky. “I see nothing but my own black feather.”

“Come closer and see.”

Very anxious now, she hopped closer and closer; the feather became a larger and larger dark spot blotting out the sky. “I see nothing remarkable or beautiful here,” she cawed bitterly. “This is just a very cruel trick!"

"No it is not,” snapped Coyote, his patience gone. “Stand beside me and see.”

With a click of her beak, she stepped beside him and looked up at her feather. The bright sunlight shone around it as she moved into position, then Coyote turned the feather slightly.

Rainbows!

Countless shining rainbows sparkled gloriously through the feather. There were so many rainbows that she could no longer see the black of the feather. And all those remarkable colors danced before her eyes as the gentle breeze tickled the feather. “Beautiful!” she cawed, “More colors than I’ve seen on any other living thing….”

“That” he replied, “is what you have inside you. It can only be seen in the right light, but when it is seen, it shines as nothing else in this world. You may not believe you're beautiful on the outside, but the Creator placed something far more beautiful on the inside. You have many gifts within, words, images, stories, songs. Your voice may not sound the best to your own ears, but when you sing from your heart, it moves the hearts of others far more than even the eagle's cry or morning dove’s call.”

“Remember this.”

Originally written (c) 2009 - Permission to copy/share this story is granted, provided you do not receive profit from doing so.
- ESA

Little Crow's Discovery (Story)

Originally written (c) 2009 - Permission to copy/share this story is granted, provided you do not receive profit from doing so.

Once there was a little crow who lived in a nest deep in the woods. As the little crow grew, she discovered that there were very few like her.

The birds around her had wondrous variety of color on their heads and wings, backs and tails. The red-headed woodpecker tapped at the truck above her nest and the brightly colored blue jay and cardinal danced from branch to branch, resting on their springtime journey north. She extended her wing before her and looked down at her breast and saw only black feathers. She was black beak to tail.

Sitting dejected in her nest, she could hear the voices of the other birds. Most were gifted with many fine melodies by the Creator, and they sang of life’s glory with their lilting voices. The little crow opened her beak to try singing too, but only a course “Caw Caw” rose from her throat. Horrified, she snapped her beak shut and shuddered. This was no singing voice. She huddled deeper into her nest.

A silly mockingbird alighted on a nearby branch, and proudly demonstrated all the various mimicries she could do. This only made the little crow feel worse, and she turned her back on the mockingbird. She tucked her dark head under her wing, and let the wracking sobs choke through the pathetic coarse sounds in her throat.

A robin was passing over the treetops and heard the little crow’s cries. She dipped beneath the leafy canopy and pine boughs to find the little crow’s nest. “Why do you weep, little crow? It’s such a lovely day. Come, fly with me in the sunshine.”

The little crow peeked from under her wing with tear-filled eyes. “This day may be beautiful for one like you, but it isn’t for me.”

The robin cocked her head inquiringly and settled herself more securely on the nearby branch. “The sun shines for you as it does for me.”

“But what is there when the sun shines on me? I’m ugly! All the other birds have all these beautiful colors, but I am black from beak to tail.”

The robin chirped her laughter merrily, “Why, little crow, look at me. The males of my kind may have a prominent red breast, but I am brown like my sisters. I have no bright colors, but I still have something to contribute to this world.”

“Yeah,” cawed the crow, “you have that beautiful voice of yours. Listen to mine. I cannot sing like you.”

“You have something to share with this world too. The Creator had a plan for you when he made you. You just have to spread your wings and find it.”

The little crow hunkered down deeper into her nest. “I don’t think I can; there’s nothing to find.”

The robin sighed and spread her wings, fluttering off to find some worms for her meal. But she returned to the little crow’s side day after day, trying to coax her out of the nest.

Now what the little crow did not know is that many had taken interest in her. The pines and other trees spread their branches, protecting the little crow from the spring storms that rolled across the lands. They rocked their branches in the wind, trying to sing her soothing melodies and lullabies with their gently creaking boughs. But she would see and hear none of these. Why would the trees care about one little crow?

The woodland animals often listened to her mournful cries as she spoke with the robin and tried to think of some way to help. They called up to her nest asking her to come out. Some, like the chipmunk and squirrel, even climbed up the tree, sitting on a nearby branch to speak with her. When they left, she felt even more alone and refused to leave her nest.

At last the animals and the trees put their minds together and came up with a plan. They went to Coyote for help. Coyote wasn’t too pleased to be awoken from his nap, but when the trees and the animals collectively insisted, he stretched his lithe frame and said, “Show me where this little crow is.”

They led Coyote to the base of the tree and he sat on his haunches and called up, “Little crow, why are you still hiding in your nest?”

Surprised that he had come all this way just to speak with her, she peered over the brim of her nest. “There is no reason for me to come out.”

“Come with me, little crow, there is something I must show you.”

She hesitated, “No, you are just here to trick me. People say they care, but they really don’t.”

“Suit yourself, but you shall miss seeing one of the most remarkable sights in this land. There isn’t much time to see it, and I thought you would want to be there.” With these words, he rose up on all four paws and sauntered down the path.

Curious, she watched him as far as she could from the nest. Then with a quick look around her, she leapt from the nest and followed at a discrete distance, soaring from tree to tree with ease.

When he paused at the edge where the woods met a large open meadow, she landed on a nearby branch and called down. “Where is this remarkable sight? This is just a meadow.”

“Oh, it’s found in the meadow,” he replied, “but you need something magical to see it.”

“Oh?” She hopped down a few branches closer to him. “What?”

“Come closer, little crow, and I will show you.”

She hopped down a few more branches, a bit nervous to be so close to those sharp teeth. “What?” she repeated.

“This!” He leapt up and snapped at the little crow, causing her to fly up abruptly. When he landed on the ground Coyote held one of her black feathers in his teeth.

Horrified and shaken, she settled on the highest branches, knowing he could not get her there.

But he seemed to loose interest in her and, instead, trotted out to the center of the meadow. There he held the lone back feather up to the sky and smiled, gazing intently at it.

“Where is this remarkable sight?” she called out to him.

“I’m looking at it,” he replied. “Come and see.”

“All I see is my black feather; there is nothing remarkable in that.”

Coyote looked over at her with knowing eyes and then returned his gaze to the feather. “Come and see.”

She ruffled her feathers, still shaken by his earlier actions. But she had also heard legends about Coyote’s wisdom…. She hopped down to the lower branches and leaned forward, trying to decipher what he saw.

Her friend, the robin, alighted on the branch beside her. “What is he doing?” she wondered aloud.

Coyote smiled back at the robin, “I’m looking at one of the most remarkable sights in this land. Come and see it.”

The robin cocked her head curiously and fluttered down to the meadow. She timidly hopped over to his side and gazed up at the black feather. What she saw brought tears to her eyes and she just stood there, awestruck.

The little crow called out, “What do you see, friend robin?”

“It’s beautiful…. so beautiful….” was all that her friend could chirp.

Coyote smiled down at the robin and back to the little crow, beckoning her, “Come and see.”

She landed on the ground and little by little hopped her way apprehensively toward Coyote. She kept looking at the lone black feather he held aloft – a dark smudge against a perfectly blue sky. “I see nothing but my own black feather.”

“Come closer and see.”

Very anxious now, she hopped closer and closer; the feather became a larger and larger dark spot blotting out the sky. “I see nothing remarkable or beautiful here,” she cawed bitterly. “This is just a very cruel trick!”

“No it is not,” snapped Coyote, his patience gone. “Stand beside me and see.”

With a click of her beak, she stepped beside him and looked up at her feather. The bright sunlight shone around it as she moved into position, then Coyote turned the feather slightly.

Rainbows!

Countless shining rainbows sparkled gloriously through the feather. There were so many rainbows that she could no longer see the black of the feather. And all those remarkable colors danced before her eyes as the gentle breeze tickled the feather. “Beautiful!” she cawed, “More colors than I’ve seen on any other living thing….”

“That” he replied, “is what you have inside you. It can only be seen in the right light, but when it is seen, it shines as nothing else in this world. You may not believe you're beautiful on the outside, but the Creator placed something far more beautiful on the inside. You have many gifts within, words, images, stories, songs. Your voice may not sound the best to your own ears, but when you sing from your heart, it moves the hearts of others far more than even the eagle's cry or morning dove’s call.”

“Remember this.”

- ESA

Sweet Love

I know my husband loves me.
How do I know?
All the valentines
Told me so....

I awoke this morning to a pleasant surprise (and the answer as to why he got to bed at 2:30 this morning).

I first saw a single napkin rose sitting on the tube of toothpaste.




Then I got the main surprise as I headed into the living room.





It wasn't until after I took the pictures that I discovered what was inside. Each paper napkin rose and each paper napkin heart contained a bite-sized peanut butter cup (YUM!) - two dozen total.




The big heart actually held a bag of Jax cheese puffs; another favorite of mine.



It's little things done with Love and knowing what makes a person happy that speaks more than any high-end, store-bought item.



I know how lucky I am to have such a caring person in my life. :D



- ESA

Gift Giving

When I was a child, I asked my father why we give gifts to each other on Christmas. His response was because it's Jesus' Birthday. We are to see Jesus in each other. And that's why we give gifts to each other on His Birthday, as we would to someone on their own birthday.

A nice simple sentiment to a child, and something I've treasured for decades now. But my understanding has grown since then.

First, while I still believe we should strive to see Christ in everyone we encounter, to see His Love in them and His Love FOR them in ourselves, I sincerely question if Jesus REALLY wants a diamond pendant or an X-Box for a birthday gift.

There are many other things I believe Christ treasures more:

• Our time listening to His voice in our hearts AND listening to those who need an ear;
• Our helping hand whether it be at a shelter or shoveling snow from a neighbor's walk;
• Our gifts from our surplus, ranging from clothing drives, food banks, and book drops, to our spare time, such as babysitting someone's kids so they can run to the market;
• Our talents, whatever they may be, to bring forth more beauty into this world; and
  
• Our Love - which can be shown and shared in so many countless ways

Second, as I stated in an earlier post, we don't know the date Yeshua/Jesus was born. While we celebrate His birth on December 25th - ANY day in the year could be the REAL anniversary of His birth.

Since we will never know if THIS day is His real birthday, why not try to give Him a birthday gift each and every day. It is a wondrous blessing if we can actually present our Savior with a birthday gift He treasures on His real birthday.

Whatsoever we do to/for another - especially the least - we do unto Him.

:D

-ESA

The Little Crow's Discovery (Story)

Once there was a little crow who was lived in a nest deep in the woods. As the little crow grew up, she discovered that, of all the animals around her in the woods, there were very few like her. So she decided to look at what the birds around her had that she did not.

She saw a wondrous variety of color on their heads and wings, backs and tails. The red-headed woodpecker tapped at the truck above her nest and the brightly colored blue jay and cardinal danced from branch to branch, resting on their springtime journey north. She extended her wing before her and looked down at her breast and saw only black feathers. She was black beak to tail, just like her mother, a crow like herself.

The little crow would also sit in her nest, dejected, and listen to the voices of the other birds. Most were gifted with many fine melodies as they sang of life’s glory with the voices they were given by the Creator. The little crow opened her beak to try singing too, but only a course “Caw, Caw” rose from her throat. Horrified, she snapped her beak shut and shuddered. This was no singing voice. She huddled deeper into her nest.

A silly mockingbird came alighted on a nearby branch, and proudly demonstrated all the various sounds she could do. This only made the little crow feel worse and she turned her back on the mockingbird, tucked her dark head under her wing and let the wracking sobs choke through the pathetic coarse sounds in her throat.

A robin was passing over the treetops and heard the little crow’s cries. She dipped beneath the leafy canopy and pine boughs and found the little crow’s nest. “Why do you weep, little crow? It’s such a lovely day. Come, fly with me in the sunshine.”

The little crow pulled her head out from under her wing and looked at the robin with tear-filled eyes. “This day may be beautiful for one like you, but it isn’t for me.”

The robin cocked her head inquiringly and settled herself more securely on the nearby branch. “The sun shines for you as it does for me.”

“But what is there to see when the sun shines on me? I’m ugly! All the other birds have all these beautiful colors, but I am black from beak to tail.”

The robin chirped her laughter merrily, “Why, little crow, look at me. The males of my kind may have a prominent red breast, but I am tan and brown like my sisters. I have no bright colors, but I still have something to contribute to this world.”

“Yeah,” cawed the crow, “you have that beautiful voice of yours. Listen to mine. I cannot sing like you.”

“You have something to share with this world too. The Creator had a plan for you as well. You just have to spread your wings and find it.”

The little crow hunkered down deeper into her nest. “I don’t think I can; there’s nothing to find.”

The robin sighed and spread her wings, fluttering off to find some worms for her meal. But she returned to the little crow’s side day by day, trying to coax her out of the nest.

Now what the little crow did not know is that many had taken interest in her. The pines and other trees spread their branches, protecting the little crow from the thunderstorms that rolled across the lands. They wove their branches through the wind, trying to sing her soothing melodies and lullabies. But she would see and hear none of these, thinking they were lies. Why would the trees care about one little crow?

The animals of the woodlands would often listen to her mournful cries as she spoke with the robin and tried to think of some way to help. They called up to her nest asking her to come out. Some, like the chipmunk and squirrel, even climbed up into the tree, sitting on a nearby branch to speak with her. When they left, she felt even more alone and refused to leave her nest.

At last the animals and the trees put their minds together and came up with a plan. They went to coyote for help. Coyote wasn’t too pleased to be awoken from his nap, but when the trees of the woods and the animals that lived among them collectively insisted, he stretched his lithe frame and said, “Show me where this little crow is.”

They led coyote to the base of the tree and he sat on his haunches and called up, “Little crow, why are you still hiding in your nest?”

Surprised that he had come all this way just to speak with her, she peered over the brim of her nest. “There is no reason for me to come out.”

“Come with me, little crow, there is something I must show you.”

She hesitated, “No, you are just here to trick me. People lie to me saying they care, but they really don’t.”

“Suit yourself, but you shall miss seeing one of the most remarkable sights in this land. There isn’t much time to see it, and I thought you would want to be there.” With these words, he rose up on all four feet and sauntered down the path.

Curious, she followed him as far as she could from the nest. Then with a quick look around her, she leapt from the nest and followed at a discrete distance, soaring from tree to tree with ease.

When he paused at the edge where the woods met a large open meadow, she landed on a nearby branch and called down. “Where is this remarkable sight? This is just a meadow.”

“Oh, it’s found in the meadow,” he replied, “but you need something magical to see it.”

“Oh?” She hopped down a few branches closer to him. “What?”

“Come closer, little crow, and I will show you.”

She hopped down a few more branches, a bit nervous to be so close to those sharp teeth. “What?” she repeated.

“This!” Coyote leapt up and snapped at the little crow, causing her to fly up and away abruptly. When he landed on the ground he held one of her black feathers in his teeth.

Horrified and shaken, she settled on the highest branches, knowing he could not get her there.

But he seemed to loose interest in her and instead trotted out to the center of the meadow. There he held the lone back feather up to the sky and smiled, gazing intently at it.

“Where is this remarkable sight?” she called out to him.

“I’m looking at it,” he replied. “Come and see.”

“All I see is my black feather; there is nothing remarkable in that.”

Coyote looked over at her with knowing eyes and then returned his gaze to the feather. “Come and see.”

She ruffled her feathers, still shaken by his earlier actions. But she also heard legends about coyote’s wisdom…. She hopped down to the lower branches and leaned forward, trying to decipher what he saw.

Her friend, the robin, alighted on the branch beside her. “What is he doing?” she wondered aloud.

Coyote smiled back at the robin, “I’m looking at one of the most remarkable sights in this land. Come and see it; there isn’t much time that it can be seen.”

The robin cocked her head curiously and fluttered down to the meadow. She timidly hopped over to his side and gazed up at the black feather. What she saw brought tears to her eyes and she just stood there, awestruck.

The little crow called out, “What do you see, friend robin?”

“It’s beautiful…. so beautiful….” was all that her friend could chirp.

Coyote smiled down at the robin and back to the little crow, beckoning her, “Come and see.”

She landed on the ground and little by little hopped her way apprehensively toward coyote. She kept looking at the lone black feather he held aloft – a dark smudge against a perfectly blue sky. “I see nothing but my own black feather.”

“Come closer and see.”

Very anxious now, she hopped closer and closer; the feather became a larger and larger dark spot blotting out the sky. “I see nothing remarkable or beautiful here,” she cawed bitterly. “This is just a very cruel trick!”

“No it is not,” snapped coyote, his patience gone. “Stand beside me and see.”

With a click of her beak, she stood beside him and looked up at her feather. The bright sunlight shone around it as she moved into position, then coyote turned the feather slightly.

Rainbows! Countless shining rainbows sparkled gloriously through the feather. There were so many rainbows that she could no longer see the black of the feather. And all those remarkable colors danced before her eyes as the gentle breeze tickled the feather. “Beautiful!” she cawed, “More colors than I’ve seen on any other living thing….”

“That” he replied, “is what you have inside you. It can only be seen in the right light, but when it is seen, it shines as nothing else in this world. You may not believe you're beautiful on the outside, but the Creator placed something far more beautiful on the inside. You have many gifts within, words, images, stories, songs. Your voice may not sound the best to your own ears, but when you sing from what you have within, it moves the hearts far more than even the eagle's cry or morning dove’s call.”

“Remember this.”

- ESA

The Christmas Dragon (Story)

© 1993, 1996, 2003, 2008

Who knows the story of the Epiphany? You know, the story of the magi who trekked across the vast, dry desert to bring gifts to the infant Jesus? And we remember the three gifts they brought – gold, frankincense and myrrh. But what if I told you those were NOT the three gifts they bore with them when they started out on their long journey across the sands…

This is the story about the gift of gold that was presented to the newborn Christ.

* * *

Our story begins way back in a time when dragons still freely roamed throughout lands and flew in the skies over Eastern Europe. There was a small village nestled on the banks of a small river at the bottom of a deep valley. The river’s source was this large, clear lake higher in the mountains where a natural dike held back the water and let only a small amount trickle gently down into the valley below.

On this particular day, a young – and rather bored – blue dragon was bent on mischief. He decided to tear down the dike to see how many villagers could scramble out of the path of the impending flash-flood – much like a child who dams a curbside rivulet and then removes the twigs and mud to see how many ants would be swept away.

Unknown to the blue dragon, there was an older golden dragon higher on the mountaintop observing him. The young dragon latched onto the dike with his claws and pulled away large chunks of earth, opening the way to the rush of water.

The older dragon sadly shook his huge scaled head, opened his golden wings to the bright afternoon sunlight and dove into crisp mountain air. Within a heartbeat, he was atop a small hill that rose beside the river above the village. Two graceful bounds brought him to the foot of the hill opposite the river, where the dragon planted his foreclaws into the hillside. He began to push the whole hill toward the river. The river waters started to gurgle louder as the surface quickly reached the limits of the river’s banks. The hill would not budge; even for a mighty dragon, this was an unlikely feat of strength. A dull roar thundered up the valley – growing louder by the second. The dragon strained all the muscles in his body as he tried to will the stone beneath the dirt and tree-cover to move.

His sharp hearing then caught the terrified shouts and cries from the village downriver. The golden dragon cast his eyes heavenward in a silent plea. At once, strength beyond his experience filled his muscles, and with a desperate roar tearing from his throat, he cracked the bedrock and thrust the small hill into the river’s path below. A large crash thundered along the valley as dirt, rock and tree tumbled into the churning brown water below. Moments later a deafening roar reverberated up the valley as the main body of the flash flood collided with the newly-made dam.

The sudden strength quickly left the golden dragon as he unfurled his wings to take flight. Leaping into the air, he spied the young blue dragon hurtling toward him, seething in anger.

“Why have you done this?” the blue dragon roared, flinging a claw in the direction of the water rising safely behind the new dam.

The golden dragon sighed. He looked at the younger dragon with pity in his great golden orbs and replied, “If you truly wish to know, follow me.”

With a majestic sweep of his wings, the late afternoon sunlight sparkling golden on his sides, the older dragon flew gracefully toward a ledge high on a mountaintop.

Perplexed, the younger dragon followed silently behind him.

At the ledge, the golden dragon perched on the bare rocks and surveyed the valley and village far below. When the blue dragon landed lightly beside him, the older dragon turned his golden gaze to him and said, “Furl your wings and listen to my tale.”

+++ +++ +++

“When I was a young dragon, centuries ago, I lived in the desert far southeast from here. One night, I awoke to discover this brilliant light shinning down into the cave I used as my weir. Moving to the cave’s entrance, I discovered the most remarkable stellar light shining down from the heavens. Curious, as I was in those days, I spread my wings and flew out into the clear star-speckled desert sky.

“During this flight, I witnessed a small band of travelers crossing the desert sands. They kept glancing skyward. At first, I believed they heard the wind from my wings, but they always looked toward the same bright star; a star that even outshone the moon’s glow.

“Careful not to be seen, I swept closer to observe them better. These were men, wealthy by their standards, and far from home by their appearance and dress. They plodded along on their camels, sure in their path across the dry land.

“My curiosity rose a notch and keeping downwind of their mounts, I landed and quietly approached them. ‘Where are you heading so far from your home?’ I asked them in what I hoped was their language.

“Recognition lit in their eyes at hearing my words, though they and their camels shied away from my luminous gaze. ‘We are going to see the king whose star we have seen in the far east,’ one replied, sweeping his arm toward the bright star.

“‘We are bringing gifts to present to him,’ another added as he gestured to the parcels tied to their mounts. My nose detected the frankincense and myrrh, and I could see the shapes of scrolls and books.

“This perplexed me somewhat. ‘Why would you travel so far from home, through cold desert nights and dry desert days on such a long journey to give away your treasures to a newborn child? What will you get in return?’

“This question seemed to puzzle them and they spoke briefly among themselves. Then one turned back to me and replied, ‘These are gifts, not trade goods; we expect nothing in return.’

“‘Nothing!?!’ said I. ‘After you spend all your time, resources and efforts to trek across the desert with treasures to give to a babe you’ve never seen? You expect NOTHING in return?’

“Another of the men paused in thought a moment, perhaps trying to understand my perspective. At last he answered, ‘We may receive the new king’s blessings, His Grace.’

“‘Grace?’ I felt my eyes sparkle in sheer curiosity at this. ‘What is Grace?’

“‘It is the greatest treasure of all,’ came the reply.

“I pondered these words for several moments, my tail trashing through the dry air as it does when I’m deep in new thoughts. Then I wanted to confirm my thoughts. I said to them, ‘Let me see if I understand you. If you give your treasures to this newborn king – the one whose star you follow – he will give you this Grace?’

“‘We believe it to be so,’ one stated as the others nodded in agreement.

“I considered this a moment more and asked, ‘If I too part with my treasure and give it to this child king, could I also receive this Grace?’

“The men paused again to confer among themselves and one replied, ‘We believe there is that possibility as well, though we never considered it a gift your kind ever needed, noble dragon.’

“I rose up on my haunches and responded, ‘If this Grace is truly the greatest gift of all, it is something my kind would also desire to posses. I unfurled my wings ready to take flight and asked, ‘Where can I find this newborn king?’

“One pointed skyward and instructed, ‘Follow the brightest star until it shines straight down upon the dwelling where He is. The child will be found inside.’

“I thanked them and permitted the men and the camels to continue on their journey. When they were a safe distance, I leapt into the star-filled sky. In a few wingstrokes, I was back at my weir where I gathered all the gold I possessed. For surely if this Grace was indeed the greatest treasure of them all, it was worth all that I possessed. With my young arms so burdened, I launched myself skyward. Quickly I overtook the men and their slow-moving camels and continued toward our mutual destination far ahead of them.

“Checking the star’s location often, I found myself approaching a small walled town the humans called Bethlehem. But as I started to descend toward the town, the brilliant starlight sparkled like diamonds along my golden hide. The soldiers on the wall saw my descent and shouted the alarm. As spears, rocks and arrows began to hurtle toward me, I dodged and maneuvered around the missiles. All too quickly, it became obvious that I would have to leave or slaughter the city’s defenders. I decided this quest was not worth the fight. Perhaps this new king did not want dragonkind to have this Grace, I thought sadly.

“As I arced over the town to return to the desert, I felt a gentle tug at the fabric of my very inner self. The newborn king knew I was there. But I could not present my own gifts to Him. I sadly shook my head and winged away from the soldiers and their walled town of Bethlehem.

“Soon I met with the foreign men still out in the desert. I lightly landed downwind of them once again and approached them with the gold still heaped in my arms. As I related to them what transpired at Bethlehem, I did not tell them about that strange tug to my inner self or the growing warmth of Love and understanding that seemed affixed deep within me. I did not yet know what this new sensation was.

“At the conclusion of my tale, I placed the gold before the men and requested, ‘Take this gold to the newborn king and tell him it’s my gift to Him.’

“The men fell silent and exchanged glances. One was brave enough to ask, ‘And you seek nothing in return?’

“I shook my head, yearning to depart from them for this strange feeling deep inside me needed quiet contemplation.

“The men looked at the heaps of gold on the ground and at their well-burdened camels. At last, an idea bloomed in the mind of one. ‘Wait yet a moment more, noble dragon. For we can not take all our gifts AND your gift of gold with only the mounts we have. Let me give you my gift to take home with you.’ The man that spoke rapidly emptied his parcels of the scrolls and bound books of wisdom and refilled the sacks with my gift. ‘I will tell the newborn king this is your gift. This,’ he gestured toward the small mountain of knowledge, ‘is my gift to dragonkind.’

“This man knew our kind well, for we forever seek to gain knowledge and wisdom, but I did not understand why he was giving it as a gift. I asked, ‘What do you want in exchange for this knowledge given to my kind?’

“He replied, ‘The same I expected from the newborn king, nothing; it is a gift.’

“‘What about His Grace?’ I asked.

“The man climbed up onto his camel and urged it to rise. Then he met my eyes, and I saw the wisdom that filled his own. After a moment of silence, he replied, ‘I believe we have both already received that gift from the newborn king.’

“I sat in the open desert for a long time after that, watching the men follow the brilliant star toward Bethlehem. That new feeling deep inside me never left and is still with me today.”

+++ +++ +++

When the golden dragon had finished his remarkable story, the blue dragon cocked his head in interest. “So then you received this gift of Grace?”

The golden dragon nodded elegantly. “You have seen it within my actions today.”

“What about the books and scrolls of wisdom?” asked the blue dragon skeptically. Then he paused and his cobalt eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re Him! You’re the one who brought wisdom and knowledge to all dragonkind!”

“Yes, but I also brought a far greater gift to our kind as well,” responded the golden dragon quietly.

“What?”

“His Grace.”

The expression on the blue dragon’s face showed a blend of skepticism and curiosity. “You can share that gift with others? How could I get some? Where do I have to go for it?”

The golden dragon raised his head to peer wistfully at the first evening star shining on the eastern horizon. “You must be willing to give up what you treasure to find the greatest treasure of all. Then look deep within yourself. When you are ready to receive it, it will be there.”

The young blue dragon peered at the evening star and with a sigh turned to the golden dragon. “But this newborn king you knew is no longer in this world. It was so long ago and humans do not live as long as our kind. How am I to receive His Grace then?”

The golden dragon looked down at the blue dragon and smiled a broad draconic smile, his golden eyes sparkling with an inner Joy. “Oh, that King still lives. That was only the very beginning of His story. Do as I say and you too will find Him and His Grace.”

* * *

Thus concludes the story of the Christmas Dragon and his gift of gold to the newborn Christ.

- ESA