Welcome

Heart Tales is a monthly newsletter for people on an adventure toward wholeness. It is published by Jim Cyr, storyteller, author, and crisis intervention specialist.

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The Christmas Story

Abridged and adapted by Jim Cyr from The Manager is Empty by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

Once upon a time the world was dark, and the land where the people lived was in deep darkness. It was as dark as the night in the daytime. It had been dark for so long that the people had forgotten what the light was like.

This is what they did: they lit small candles for themselves and pretended that it was day. But the world was a gloomy place, and the people who walked in darkness were lonelier than they knew, and the lonely people were sadder than they could say.

But God was in love with the world. God looked down from heaven and saw that the earth was stuck, like a clock at midnight. “No,” he said. This is not good. It’s time to make time tick again. Time…time,” said the mighty God, “to turn the earth from night to morning.

And God was in love with the people especially. He saw their little candlelight, and he pitied their pretending. “Poor people, pretending to be happy,” he said. “Well, I want them to be happy. It’s time,” declared the Lord our God. “It’s time to do a new thing! I’ll shatter their darkness. I will send sunlight down so they can see and know that they are seeing.”

God so loved the world that he sent his only Son into the world itself. This is how he did it.

It came to pass in those dark days that Caesar, the Emperor commanded that all the people should be counted. “A census,” he decreed. “Citizens, go to the cities of your parents and grandparents to be counted according to families there.” So people began to travel.

So Joseph, too, obeyed the command. He and Mary traveled south together, to the province named Judea, to a particular city of David called Bethlehem, but in that city to no particular house at all, for they had no house in Bethlehem.

Joseph was a descendant of King David, that’s why he came to Bethlehem. But there were hundreds and hundreds of others descended from David; the city was crowded with people, and that’s why there was no house–no rooms at all where Joseph could lay Mary down to rest for a while. Even in inn was full.

But the night was dark and cold. The night was deep and lonely. And Mary was huge with her child and tired. She was filled with tiredness and groaning.

“Joseph, it’s time, the baby’s coming. It’s time,” groaned Mary.

“Mary, can you wait a little longer?” fretted Joseph.

“No.”

“Mary, there’s no place for us.”

“It’s time,” she said.

So Joseph went running through the streets of his city. People were sleeping. Nobody noticed. Nobody answered his knocking.

So this is all he could find: a stable where travelers tied their beasts while they slept, a little shelter against the night.

“Mary,” he said as he led her there “Do you mind?”

“No,” groaned Mary.

“Can you lay on the straw?” asked Joseph.

“It’s time,” she said and knelt down.

So there it was that she brought forth her firstborn son; and she wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were shepherds in that same dark country abiding in fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.

And God turned to his angel. “Gabriel,” God said.

And the angel answered, “Yes, Lord?”

And the Lord God said, “Go down. All the people must know what I am doing. Tired and lonely, scattered and scared, all the people must hear it. Go, good Gabriel. Go down. Go tell a few to tell the others till every child has heard it. GO!”

So there was an angel flying through the night. So swiftly he flew that no one noticed him until he appeared to the weary shepherd. And their darkness was shattered, the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were sore afraid.

The angel said to them, “Don’t be afraid.”

But the light was like a hard and holy wind, and the shepherds shielded their faces with their arms.

“Hush,” said the angel, “hush,” like the west wind. “Shepherds, I bring you good news of great joy, and not only for you but for all the people. Listen!”

So the shepherds stood there squinting and blinking, and the shepherds began to listen. But none of them had the courage to talk or say anything. And this is what the angel Gabriel said.

“For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior who is Christ the Lord. And this will be a sign for you. You will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

Suddenly, the sky itself split open, and like the fall of a thousand stars the light poured down. There came with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host prais9ing God and saying: “Glory to God in the highest and on earth…peace…Peace to the people with whom he is pleased!”

But the angels’ singing was soon over. And they went back into heaven and the sky was closed again. And there came a breeze…and a marvelous quiet…and the simple dark of the night. And the gloom, the darkness which had covered the earth for so long was lifted. For not all the light had gone back into heaven. The Light of the World himself stayed down on the earth.

So thin, this is what the shepherds said to one another: Lets go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.”

So the shepherds got up and ran as fast as they could to the city of Bethlehem, to a particular stable in that city, and in that stable they gazed upon one particular baby, lying in the manager.

Then, in that moment, everything was glowing with light. For there was the infant, just waking, lifting his arms in the air, and making sucking motions with his mouth. The holy child was hungry. And there was his mother lying on the straw as lovely as a lily and listening to the noises of her child.

“Joseph?” she murmured.

And there was Joseph as sturdy as a barn, just bending toward his Mary.

“What?” he whispered.

And the shepherds eyes were shining for what they saw, exactly as if it were morning and not night. And the shepherds went out into the city and began at once to tell everyone what the angel had said about this child. They left a trail of startled people behind them, as they went on their way, glorifying and praising God.

But Mary did not so much as rise that night. She received the baby from Joseph’s hands, then placed him down on her breast while she lay on her side on the straw. With one arm she cradled the infant against her body. On the other arm, bent at the elbow, she rested her head: and she gazed at her small son sucking.

Mary lowered her long black lashes and watched him…and loved him.

“Jesus, Jesus,” she murmured, for the baby’s name was Jesus.

“Joseph?” she said glancing up.

“What May?”

But Mary fell silent and said no more. She was keeping all these things–all that had happened between the darkness and the light–and thinking about them in her heart.

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Thought to Ponder

“Let all mortal flesh keep silence, And with fear and trembling stand:  ponder nothing earthly minded, For  with blessing in His hand. Christ our God to earth descendeth, our full hommage to demand.”      Liturgy of St. James, 4th Centruy

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Your Comments Welcome

Post your comments in the comment box or email them to me at jim@hearttales.net

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Heart Tales Happenings

Book

My book, The Cracked Pot: Finding Grace in the Cracks of Child Abuse. is available at Amazon.com

“This is one man’s true story of the unspeakable things that were done to him as a child and his rocky journey through adulthood to find God, peace AND his true self.”

Blog

If you enjoy this newsletter, check out The Hert Tales Blog at http://hearttales.net/blog. The blog is published every Monday and Thursday. Check out the current series: “The Adventures of Brother Jim”

 About Jim & Heart Tales

 The true spirit of my work is to lead people on a life-changing adventure toward wholeness by connecting their hearts to their true selves, to others, and to God, through stories of healing, wisdom, and faith. My life-changing adventure toward wholeness includes performances of folk and fairy tales, sacred stories, and personal stories, and workshops on how to tell stories in therapeutic settings.

Feedback

 ”Jim’s storytelling spoke to many of the problems our women face on the road to recovery from addiction and gave them options for handling those problems they had not considered before.”
Helen Raytek, Program Director, Crawford House

“Jim, I want to thank you for your time, efforts, and talents in presenting your Clinical Benefits of Storytelling Workshop. I was very impressed with your professional and fun deliverance of the material and many useful resources and examples. I felt I benefited from it both personally and professionally, and will use what I learned…”
John J. D. Schweska, L.P.C. Assistant Program Director, Mobile Response and Stabilization Services, Catholic Charities, Diocese of Metuchen

“…your newsletter is a wonderful resource, and I hope that many will subscribe to it.”
Dr. Robert Bela Wilhelm, Storyfest Ministry

“…Thank you once again, Jim, for sharing your stories/your story and influencing my healing.”
Eileen

The true spirit of my work is to lead people on a life-changing adventure toward wholeness by connecting their hearts to their true selves, to others, and to God, through stories of healing, wisdom, and faith. My life-changing adventure toward wholeness includes performances of folk and fairy tales, sacred stories, and personal stories, and workshops on how to tell stories in therapeutic settings.

If you enjoy this newsletter, check out The Heart Tales Blog at http://hearttales.net/blog. The blog is published every Monday and Thursday and contains a story with a brief reflection.

“Jim’s storytelling spoke to many of the problems our women face on the road to recovery from addiction and gave them options for handling those problems they had not considered before.”
Helen Raytek, Program Director, Crawford House

“Jim, I want to thank you for your time, efforts, and talents in presenting your Clinical Benefits of Storytelling Workshop. I was very impressed with your professional and fun deliverance of the material and many useful resources and examples. I felt I benefited from it both personally and professionally, and will use what I learned…”
John J. D. Schweska, L.P.C. Assistant Program Director, Mobile Response and Stabilization Services, Catholic Charities, Diocese of Metuchen

“…your newsletter is a wonderful resource, and I hope that many will subscribe to it.”
Dr. Robert Bela Wilhelm, Storyfest Ministry

“…Thank you once again, Jim, for sharing your stories/your story and influencing my healing.”
Eileen

The true spirit of my work is to lead people on a life-changing adventure toward wholeness by connecting their hearts to their true selves, to others, and to God, through stories of healing, wisdom, and faith. My life-changing adventure toward wholeness includes performances of folk and fairy tales, sacred stories, and personal stories, and workshops on how to tell stories in therapeutic settings.

Book

My book, The Cracked Pot: Finding Grace in the Cracks of Childhood Abuse, is available at Amazon.com.

“This is one man’s true story of the unspeakable things that were done to him as a child and his rocky journey through adulthood to find God, peace AND his true self. “

Blog

If you enjoy this newsletter, check out The Heart Tales Blog at http://hearttales.net/blog. The blog is published every Monday and Thursday and contains a story with a brief reflection.

Telecast

If you missed the telecast of my interview with Diane Eble you can hear the replay at http://www.askjimcyr.com/replay.php

I invite you to send me your thoughts about “The Scarecrow’s Thanksgiving.” You can email me at jim@hearttales.net

A Canadian Thanksgiving story written by Amy Friedman and illustrated by Jillian Gilliland

Long ago, on the shores of the St. Lawrence River, Owl perched in his willow tree and looked out at the world. “Hoo hoo,” he called out, and at the sound, all the wild creatures gathered. They respected Owl and always came when he called.

“Now look at this,” Owl said, and he gazed around. The others looked too. And they saw, as if they never had seen before, a field of fat orange pumpkins looking cheery and ripe, and a field of golden corn, and yet another field, this of waving wheat, and bright blue morning glories streaming over stone walls. They saw gardens of peas and beans, squash and cabbage, wild mushrooms and mums. They saw riotous red maple leaves and dazzling yellow poplars and burnt-orange leaves on the oaks.

“And just look at that sky!” Owl said.

“It’s the color of the Caribbean Sea,” said Raccoon.

“You’ve never seen the Caribbean,” Turtle snapped, but Goose honked and said, “He knows, though, that it’s as beautiful as our sky.”

The animals were quiet for a time, thinking about the beautiful things in their world. Then little Snail, whose eyes were closing as they usually were, piped up. “Owl, why did you call us to gather?”

“We’re going to have a feast,” Owl said, “to give thanks for all that we have. We’ll celebrate our world and our friendship.”

So they set to work. Some dug potatoes and some collected seeds; others picked sweet peas and apples and corn; others plucked squash and zucchini from their long, hearty stems. They shucked and stirred and mixed and mashed, working to make a great feast.

“A feast!” the ants cried as they marched toward the delicacies stowed away in a clearing. “A feast it is!”  

That first day no one rested, not even at night, but by the second day, they grew weary of labor.

“We’ll feast the day after tomorrow,” Owl said. “For now, everyone sleep. We need rest.”

That night all the creatures slept, but Owl kept vigil, his round eyes blazing into the dark sky, guarding their treasure. So it was Owl who saw the trouble coming, just as the first flush of dawn brightened the horizon.

At first it looked like an enormous black cloud, but Owl could feel the air growing cooler, moving faster, as if the cloud were pushing all the air toward him. And then he heard it, like traveling thunder, growing louder and closer.

And then he saw them. The Crows were on the wing, rushing toward the gathered food. Down they swept, one after another, their beaks snapping at peas and beans and squash and cabbages, at apples and peppers and sweet potato pies.

“Yum yum, eat ‘em up,” the Crows cried, and that’s exactly what they did. They ate up every single last crumb. Then they swept into the sky and disappeared.

When the animals awoke, they wept at the sight of all their hard work lost.

“Don’t worry,” Owl said. “We’ll start again. But this time we need a scarecrow.”

So once again they gathered food, and this time they also gathered straw and cloth, and they made themselves a scarecrow to stand guard.

“But do you think he’ll do the job?” Frog croaked, eyeing the cheerful scarecrow. He was skeptical by nature.

“He will,” Owl promised them.

The next dawn, while the creatures still were sleeping, the black cloud swept across the sky again. Owl watched as they swooped down, lower and lower, closer and closer. For one moment, Owl closed his eyes. “Oh no,” he thought. “This isn’t going to work at all.” But when he opened his eyes, his eyes grew even rounder.

Scarecrow had come alive. He was dancing now, twirling on his pole, waving his arms and talking.

“Crows,” Scarecrow called, and the Crows hovered above him, waiting, worried. “Crows, listen up. We want you to join the feast. Thanksgiving is for everyone, but you have to learn how to share.”

“Scarecrows can’t talk,” the lead Crow said nervously, turning his head this way and that. “Scarecrows are made of straw and stuff.”

“Oh, we can talk when we have something important to say,” Scarecrow said. “And this is important. If you will share, you are welcome to stay and have some sweet potato pie. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to chase you away.”
Naturally the Crows did not know what to think, but they had no reason to distrust Scarecrow’s words.

“If we share, we can stay?” they asked.

“Yes. Thanksgiving is a celebration of everything and everyone.”

And so, ever since that first Thanksgiving Day on the banks of the river, the Crows have wondered about Scarecrows, but every year they join their fellow creatures for a joyous feast of celebration.