The Christmas Spirit

I am the Christmas Spirit—

I enter the home of poverty, causing palefaced children to open their eyes wide, in pleased wonder.

I cause the miser’s clutched hand to relax and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.

I cause the aged to renew their youth and to laugh in the old glad way.

I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood, and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.

I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts amazed at the goodness of the world.

I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild, wasteful way and send to anxious love some little token that releases glad tears—tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.

I enter dark prison cells, reminding scarred manhood of what might have been and pointing forward to good days yet to be.

I come softly into the still, white home of pain, and lips that are too weak to speak just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude. 

In a thousand ways, I cause the weary world to look up into the face of God, and for a little moment forget the things that are small and wretched.

I am the Christmas Spirit.

E. C. Baird

Just Remember - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Jesse moved on, even though the farmers begged him to live by them.

“I need to go home,” he thought, although he didn't really know where home was.

“You are a prince, the son of the King,” he told himself, so your home is the castle.” But somehow he didn't quite believe that anymore. “Your home is the castle IF you grow up to be like the King,” he reminded himself. “And a real king wouldn't live in a hut, or a cave, or the forest, and a real king wouldn't eat somebody's cow just because he was hungry.”

Without knowing it, Jesse traveled closer and closer to the place where his father's palace stood. One day as he walked over the top of a mountain, he saw far ahead of him the glint of sunshine on the top most spire of the castle.

“I want to go home,” Jesse cried, as tears came into his eyes. “But is that my home? Maybe I'm not really a prince, after all. Maybe I really am just the son of a thief, like Shiz always told me.”

Just then he heard a nasty laugh, and suddenly the wicked wizard was standing right in front of him.

“So, you've finally figured it out,” Shiz laughed. “I've told you from the beginning that you weren't really a prince! Now, maybe, you'll come to your senses and go back to where you belong. You could be great, you know, as the leader of the robbers!”

Jesse looked at Shiz, and felt the sickness in his stomach. But then the castle gleamed behind the wizard, and suddenly Jesse shouted, “No! I am not a robber! I am the son of the King!” The sick feeling in his stomach stopped hurting, and a warm glow began to fill his heart. “I don't belong with robbers, Shiz, and you know it, so stop telling me lies!”

Shiz looked angrily into Jesse's face, then suddenly he disappeared, and a huge, purple black dragon stood in front of Jesse.

“So you don't believe that you are really the son of a thief?” it roared, foul smelling black smoke billowing out of it's mouth. “Well, it doesn't matter, does it? Maybe you were the son of the King, once. But you haven't grown up to be like him, have you? The King doesn't steal, but you did. It doesn't matter who you are, you little wretch! You can never go home to live in the castle now, because you grew up to be nothing but a thief, and I've won!”

Jesse sank down to the ground in shame. Shiz was right. He hadn't grown up to be like the King, after all. A sharp, hard rock poked Jesse in the leg, and he grabbed it with his fist. “If only I hadn't taken that cow!” he moaned as squoze the rock with all his might, taking his anger out on it. “If only I had paid attention to the warning voice in my head.”

Jesse looked up again and saw the dragon growing bigger and more ferocious than ever. It's head rose higher and higher, swaying to and fro. It's beady little eyes glistened above it's long snout. Then he heard a swish of robes, and suddenly Emer was standing in front of him, shielding him from the awful sight of the dragon.

“The prince has not lost,” Emer said in a ringing voice, throwing his arms wide to protect Jesse behind him. “You have lost, Shiz. Jesse has proved himself to be every bit as good and noble and honorable as his father.”

“No!” roared the dragon, swinging his head back and forth to see behind his old enemy. “The boy has failed! He stole the cow. He is a thief, not a prince. I told you he would grow up to be just like the people he lived with. You stupid old man, love is not the most powerful thing in the world. Evil is!” And with a roar of rushing wind, the dragon breathed a great gush of fire out of his huge mouth. Hot, striking flames engulfed Emer in licking tongues of fire.

“No!” cried Jesse. “No!” But it was too late. The fire swallowed Emer whole, and in an instant he was gone.

“No!” screamed Jesse again, shaking with horror as he realized his best friend, his protector, his one true ally was dead.

Shakily he stood up and faced the dragon. “You have not won,” he told Shiz with a voice that rang with courage. “No matter how long you fight, I will never stop fighting back. I am a prince, my father is the King, and I will fight you until the day I die.”

“What for?” laughed Shiz. “You can never live in the castle now. You have lost, prince Jesse. You are nothing like your father. You are just a common, petty thief.”

“Maybe so,” answered Jesse. “Maybe I didn't act like my father when I took that cow, but I know better now, and I will never steal again. If I can't live in the castle, then I will stand out here, but I will never stop fighting you. You are not the strongest wizard, because I am a prince, the son of a king, and in the end, you will lose! Evil is not the strongest thing in the world, love is, and I loved Emer, and I love my father, and I will protect him and his people no matter what you do!”

Almost without thinking, Jesse raised his arm and threw the rock he was holding straight at Shiz. The dragon was tall, his head way up above the prince, but Jesse had grown strong from all his years of hard work, and the rock flew through the air with startling speed. It struck Shiz on the side of the head, just above one beady little eye, and with a howl the dragon fell backward, staggered, then slowly crashed to the ground.

Jesse couldn't believe his eyes. Had he really killed the dragon? Was Shiz really gone?

Suddenly there was a flash of bright, white light, and Emer was back, standing beside Jesse.

“You did it, you brave boy,” Emer praised.

Jesse looked at the dragon in unbelief, then at the wizard in wonder. “But how are you here?” He gasped. “I saw the dragon's fire swallow you whole!”

“Magic,” grinned Emer. “The most powerful magic in the world. Love.”

Suddenly the castle gate opened, and a rush of people streamed out.

“This is the prince,” Emer said loudly to the crowd of people. “Take him inside to the King.”

Jesse was pulled inside the castle and rushed to the thrown room, where his father, the King, waited.

“Your Majesty, this is your son, the prince,” Emer said. “He has come home.”

“Sire,” Jesse looked into the loving eyes of his father, then swallowed. “I am honored to stand here before you, but I am not worthy to be called a prince. I tried to live like you, but I failed.” He hung his head in shame.

The King looked at his son, but before he could say anything, Emer reached an arm around the prince and hugged him.

“Your Majesty,” Emer said with a smile. “This is your son, and he IS a prince. Shiz and I made the rules for the contest, which were that if Jesse grew up to be like you, he could come home. He made a mistake, but he learned from it. I paid the price for that mistake by letting Shiz kill me, but he never understood that love is the most powerful thing in the world, and it's magic is far stronger than his power of evil. Love won the contest, Your Majesty, and Jesse is more than worthy to be your son, he is a prince, and he belongs here in the castle.”

Jesse's father, the King, stood up, smiled, and opened his arms wide to welcome home his son.

The End

Just Remember - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Jesse packed the few things he had left that hadn't been smashed by the giant, and left the next day. He walked and walked, looking for a good place to live. Sometimes he stopped to help a farmer cut wood for the winter, or harvest some oats, but he didn't stay long. He didn't want anyone to have to take care of him, and he couldn't find anyplace that felt like home.

The next year Shiz found Jesse living in a cave on the side of a mountain. It was a lonely place, but there were plenty of animals to hunt in the forest, and he was warm and safe, even if the mountain did seem to rumble in the middle of the night sometimes.

“So, you've decided to live like your parents at last,” Shiz told the boy. “Robbers always live in caves, but you're not a very smart thief. You've got to choose a cave closer to people so you can steal from them.”

Jesse didn't even listen to the wizard. “Would you like some rabbit stew?” he offered politely, not because he liked Shiz, but because it was his habit to be nice.

“Rabbit stew!” yelled the wizard. “Rabbit stew? When you have all those cows on the other side of the mountain just waiting for you to eat them? What's wrong with you, boy? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of brave hero? Are you scared of stealing a little meat from the troll who keeps those cows? He isn't that big. I should think a great hero like you would want to free those cows so their owners could come and take them back.”

The next morning, Jesse asked Emer if he knew what Shiz was talking about.

“I think there is a troll who lives in a cave on the other side of this mountain, “Emer told him, “but I don't know if he stole any cows.”

Jesse wondered about the troll, and finally decided to go see for himself. Instead of hiking around the mountain, he climbed right over the top of it. From there he could see down into a pretty little valley, full of healthy looking cows.

“I wonder,” Jesse thought, “if the troll really did steal those cows? If he did, I bet their owners would be glad if I got them. They sure do look like good cows, and I bet they miss their meat, and the milk and cheese and butter they give”

Jesse sat on top of the mountain for a long time, until finally he came up with a plan.

“I'll walk over to the next town, and make sure the cows really are stolen, then I'll trick the troll and get them back,” he decided.

Jesse walked until he came to a farm. The farmer was out working in his field, so Jesse asked him if he had lost any cows?

“The troll stole them from me,” the farmer told him, “and I don't know how to get them back.”

Jesse visited all of the farmers, and each one told him the same thing. “I can help you,” he told the farmers when they gathered together to talk with him, “but you'll have to be ready to come get your cows when you hear my signal.”

“What is the signal?” the farmers wanted to know. “It needs to be something really loud so we can all hear it.”

“How about a horn?” one farmer suggested. “Some of our cows have huge horns. If you can get a cow away from the troll, you could cut off it's horn and blow that for the signal.”

Jesse thought that was a good idea, so he hiked back to the little green valley and snuck in during the middle of the night. Jesse could hear the troll's snorting snores echo out of his cave, so he knew he was asleep. Quietly he put a rope around the neck of a big old cow who had huge horns, and pulled it out of the valley, around the mountain, and tied it to a tree by his cave.

Jesse hadn't eaten anything since the day before, so by this time he was really hungry. “I'm too tired to go hunting,” he thought to himself, “and I'm going to need all my strength tomorrow when I take on that troll. I think the farmers will be so happy when they get their cows back they will want to pay me, so maybe it would be alright if I kill this big cow right now. It would make it easier to cut off his horn, and I can eat a big, juicy steak for my supper.”

As soon as the prince thought up this idea he got a funny feeling. It wasn't a nice, warm feeling in his heart, it was more like a sick feeling in his stomach.

“I'm just hungry,” he told himself, and he tried not to think about the little voice in his mind asking, “What would the King do?”

“I need to eat,” Jesse told himself instead, “and the farmers will want me to be strong tomorrow when I fight the troll.”

So Jesse killed the cow, cut off one of it's horns, then made a big fire to cook a steak for himself. As the wood crackled and the meat sizzled, he worked on the horn. He could smell the steak cooking, and it made his stomach rumble. Boy! It smelled good! But when he took it off the fire and put a big bite into his mouth, Jesse was a little disappointed. Somehow, it didn't taste as good as he'd expected, and the funny feeling in his stomach didn't go away.

When Jesse was done eating he went to work. He crawled into the back of his cave and put his ear against the dirt wall. Very faintly, he felt the mountain tremble, and he heard the snorting snores of the troll, sleeping in his cave on the other side.

Carefully and quietly Jesse began to move rocks and dirt out of the way, digging into the mountain like a gopher. The deeper he dug, the louder the snores of the troll grew, until at last Jesse pulled out a big rock and got a blast of hot troll breath and snores in his face.

“I'm through!” he thought as he quickly pushed the rock back into the hole so the troll wouldn't know what he'd done. Then Jesse waited for morning.

With the first rays of the morning sun, Jesse heard the troll stir.

“I bet he's hungry for his breakfast,” he thought.

Standing by the back wall of his tunnel, Jesse called, “Moooo, Moooo.” He knew he didn't really sound much like a cow, but he'd heard that trolls were pretty dumb, and he hoped he could fool this one.

He heard the troll stop moving, and he knew that he was listening.

“Moooo,” he called again.

“What the.....?” the troll's voice echoed through the cave. “How did a cow get in there?” Then Jesse heard the troll start digging away the dirt on his side of the cave.

“Moooo. Moooo,” Jesse called again, and he heard the troll push the big rock out of it's hole, and he saw the troll's ugly face poking out of the opening, looking for the lost cow.

You should have seen the look on the troll's face when he spied Jesse, standing off to the side of the tunnel, and you should have heard his yell when Jesse slipped his rope around the troll's head and tied him firmly to the boulders on either side of the opening.

Then Jesse ran down the tunnel, out of his cave, and grabbed the cow's horn. He blew as loud as he could. The farmers on the other side of the little green valley were listening for the signal, and as soon as they heard it they rushed into the meadow to round up their cows.

Of course, the troll had already eaten a bunch of cows, so not everyone got back all of their animals, and no one knew that Jesse had killed the big old cow the night before. But Jesse did.

After the farmers led their cows home and Jesse untied the troll - who ran away to find a different cave, one that didn't have a head-catching hole in the back of it -the farmers came to find Jesse and thank him for getting their cows back.

“Take as many cows as you want in payment,” they told him, just the way he knew they would. But Jesse said, “Thank you, but no. I don't want any more of your cows. I killed one last night, so I could get the horn, and I ate some of him. I'm sorry I did that, too. I shouldn't have killed your cow without asking.”

“That's alright,” they told him, but Jesse knew it wasn't. The sick feeling inside his stomach hadn't gone away when he filled it with food, and he knew it wasn't just from being hungry.

“You know you did something the King wouldn't have done,” the little voice in his head told him, and this time he listened.

Just Remember - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

One morning, almost a year later, Jesse woke up with a start. What was happening? His hut shook, and Jesse jumped out of bed.

Thump, thump, thump! he heard as the hut rattled, Jesse ran to the door and looked out into the village. A terrible sight met his eyes. A huge giant, over sixteen feet tall, was thundering through town, grabbing chickens and goats and cows, stuffing them into his mouth and chomping down on them, blood drooling from his chin!

“Run!” Jesse heard people scream as he watched back doors burst open and whole families tear their way toward the edge of town and the tall trees of the forest where they could hide.

Thump! Thump! Thump! The giant smashed over fences and gardens and small buildings as his big feet stomped through town.

Jesse heard a terrified cry, and saw a father, on the edge of the forest, look back to see his little two year old daughter standing in the street, crying. Somehow she had been left behind as her family ran to safety.

The giant heard the child's cry, too. Jesse saw him drop the rooster he had grabbed from the top of a barn, and turn greedily to find where the crying came from.

“Ah ha!” he roared when he saw the tiny girl, and the giant turned towards the tasty morsel.

“No!” Jesse shouted in fear. He couldn't let the giant eat the little girl, but what could he do?

“You are a prince, the son of a king!” he told himself as he stood shaking in his front yard. “You have to do something to save that baby!” But what?

“What would the King do?” Jesse asked, and before he even answered he began running towards the giant, shouting, “Hey, you! You big, dumb old monster! You don't want to eat that little girl, she won't even make two mouthfuls! Come and catch me, if you can. I'm much juicier and crunchier and delicious!”

The giant stopped where he was and turned his head to see who was yelling at him. As soon as he saw Jesse, he changed directions and stomped toward him.

“Now what do I do?” Jesse thought as he saw how quickly the giant thundered through town.

There wasn't nearly enough time for Jesse to run to the forest, so he turned and ran the only way he could, toward the edge of the cliff and the deep canyon beyond.

The giant was nearly on him when he reached the rope fence he had made to protect Farmer Owen's sheep from falling over.

“Keep on the steady rocks,” he told himself as he scrambled over the huge boulders.

Jesse felt a rock wobble under his feet as he ran. Quickly he jumped off that boulder, and it crashed down into the canyon below. The giant, who didn't know which rocks were steady and which ones were loose, thumped his big feet onto a spot of loose boulders, and started to slide over the side of the cliff. Wildly grabbing at the steady rocks all around him, he teetered, but he was so heavy and big that the whole side of the cliff began to crumble away, rocks and dirt and the giant all falling down into the canyon below. Jesse grabbed onto the rope fence and held tight as the rocks and dirt fell, but the fence was strong and he was safe.

When the roaring of the rocks and the falling giant finally quieted, the hiding people peeked out of the forest and walked over to the side of the canyon. There was Jesse, hanging onto the rope fence, dangling over the side of the cliff. The villagers grabbed the rope and pulled Jesse back up to safety, hugging him and patting him on the back, thanking him for saving them from the giant.

Jesse smiled, but when he turned around and saw his tumbled down hut, destroyed by the giant, his knees began to shake. “I'm glad I didn't have time to think about what I was doing,” he thought to himself, “or I may not have had enough courage to act like a prince after all.”

That night Shiz came for his yearly visit. He found Jesse sleeping in Farmer Owen's barn.

“Are you crazy?” he yelled. “Why did you do such a stupid thing? Why didn't you run away like all the other people? You could have died! That giant could have eaten you! Don't you know what a fool you were, trying to save that little girl?”

Jesse cowered before the angry wizard, afraid to say anything until he stopped yelling. At last Shiz ran out of nasty names to call Jesse, and a wicked gleam began to shine in his eyes.

“But maybe you are craftier than I thought,” he finally said. “Maybe this was your plan all along. Now you are a hero! The villagers love you, and they will give you anything you want!”

“Oh, ho! You can use this, boy! You can tell them to give you the best house in payment for saving them, and make them give you food and drink and anything you want! You are a sly one, aren't you? I should have known you'd think like this. After all, you're the son of a robber!”

“No!” Jesse shouted back, then was terrified by the look in the wizard's eyes.

“No,” he said in a softer voice, but he wouldn't back down.

“I am not the son of a robber, and I didn't save the town so they would have to pay me, and I won't take their things from them. I am the son of a king, and I will act like one!”

Shiz flew at Jesse in a rage, shaking him and screaming, cursing him for being so stupid, but as he ranted and raved in the dark night, Jesse didn't listen. Inside, in his heart, he felt a warm glow, where he knew that he had not acted like a robber, but like the son of a king.

******************************

“I think I will have to leave this village,” Jesse told Esmer the following morning when the good wizard came to visit.

“The giant broke down my house, and I have nowhere to live. The villagers want to pay me for saving them, but they don't have enough food to take care of themselves now, after the giant stomped on everything, and they are really going to have a hard time this winter.”

Esmer smiled proudly at Jesse. “You are just like your father,” he told the boy. “I am so proud of you. But where will you go, Your Majesty?”

“I don't know,” Jesse answered. “Someplace where people won't think they have to take care of me, I guess.”

Just Remember, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jesse worked hard at being a friend to the people in his village. He put up a strong, rope fence along the cliff, to keep Farmer Owen's sheep from falling over. He helped his neighbors in their gardens, and slowly he made friends with the other children in the village.

When he was ten years old Shiz came to visit, and he yelled, “Why are you are still living in this stinking little hut, all by yourself? Are you stupid, or what? Why haven't you gone to the caves to live with the robbers? They have all the food they need, and they would welcome you! If you ate meat every meal and drank their wine you would become the strongest robber of all!”

But when Emer came to visit he said, “Your majesty, you are getting bigger and more like your father every day.”

“Shiz says I would be the strongest robber if I lived with them and ate like them,” Jesse said.

“Do you want to be the strongest robber?”

Jesse thought for awhile, then said, “I would like to be big and strong, but I want to be a prince, not a robber.”

Emer smiled. “Well said, Your Majesty. You already are a prince, you always have been, and you act like one, too. I know you would like to have people look up to you and be your friends, but choose how you do that. Remember, love is the most powerful thing in the world. If you try to make people be your friends by being the strongest and the most powerful, in the end you won't have any friends at all. How do you suppose the King treats his subjects?”

“He loves them?” asked Jesse.

“Yes, and what does that mean?”

“He helps them, and does nice things for them?”

“Yes! Spoken like a true king!” Emer praised.

“But, what about being strong?” asked Jesse. “Is my father strong?”

“Very,” answered Emer. “But he doesn't get strong from eating lots of meat and drinking wine. If he did that, in the end it would make him weak.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You can poison your body with food and drink, you know.”

“Poison?” gasped the prince.

“Yes, poison. The King is very careful that he only puts good, wholesome things into his body.”

“Like what?” Jesse asked.

“Like vegetables and fruit and good breads and cereals. He eats meat, but not a lot of it, and he drinks plenty of good, clear water, but never wine or liquor. That is one of the worst poisons of all.”

“But I thought wine was made from grapes and fruit,” Jesse said.

“It is, but the good juice has been changed until it has turned into poison.”

“But poison will kill you!”

“Not always,” Emer said. “Sometimes it will just kill little parts of your brain. You won't die from it unless you get too much, but the part of your brain that warns you to be careful and helps you make good choices will be hurt.”

“Then why would anybody drink it?” Jesse wanted to know.

“Because when the poison kills part of their brain it also makes them feel good. It makes them forget their problems, and makes them feel smarter, or stronger, or braver than they really are. Anything that changes how you feel or think is dangerous, and you need to stay away from it. It may be poison.”

Jesse looked long and hard at Emer, trying to understand what he said. “How will I know what not to eat or drink?”

“You will know here,” Emer told him gently, patting him over his heart, “and here,” he added, touching his forehead with his finger. “You are a prince, the son of a king. If you listen to the little voice inside it will warn you what is poison.”

“There is something else you need to know,” Emer added. “Poisons that kill your brain aren't always just food or drink. There are other ways to put things inside your body.”

“Like Farmer Owen's pipe?” asked Jesse thoughtfully. “The smoke goes into his body.”

“Yes it does,” said Emer. “And it changes how he feels, which is why he does it. That is a kind of poison, too. But there are other poisons that get inside you without even coming through your mouth. Can you think of a way something gets in you without going through your mouth or nose?”

Jesse thought and thought, but he couldn't figure out what Emer was talking about. How could something get inside him without his eating or breathing it? What kind of poison could get into his mind to kill his brain? Then suddenly, he had the answer.

“When I see things they get into my brain,” he told Emer. “Can poison get inside me through my eyes?”

“Yes!” Emer beamed at the prince. “There are things we see, and then think about, that can poison our brain.”

“And we know they are poison because they change the way we think and feel!” exclaimed Jesse.

“Right. Just like there are good things we eat that make us strong and healthy, there are good things we see that make us feel safe and loved, but there are other things we see or think about that make us feel bad. And there are some things that are poison and will kill the part of our brain that tells us what is right or wrong.”

“What are the poisonous things we shouldn't look at?” asked Jesse.

“Evil pictures,” Emer told him, “of people doing bad things. As you get older, boys may try to get you to look at pictures of girls wearing bad clothes or sometimes not wearing any clothes at all. They will laugh and tell you it is cool to look at them, but don't. Those pictures are poison, and they will hurt you!”

Should I not look at pictures of girls at all?” asked Jesse.

“No, it's fine to see some things,” Emer smiled. “Whenever I see a picture of a mother holding a little baby, it makes me feel extra special love in my heart. But if you see something that makes you feel uneasy, look away fast! And don't look back. That is poison! Remember, don't let yourself think about things that are evil, either. Always ask yourself, would my father look at or think about this, and you will know what to do.”

“OK,” Jesse said.

“Sometimes, you will see or hear about bad things anyway, even when you are trying not to,” Emer added. “It won't be your fault, but they will still get inside your head.”

“Oh, no,” wailed Jesse. “Then I won't be like my father!”

“Yes you will,” Emer told him, “If you look away and don't let yourself keep thinking about those things. It will be hard, but make yourself think about good things, and the bad stuff won't be able to stay inside your mind to poison it, after all.”

“And never forget,” he added as he pulled Jesse closer and hugged him. “Love is still the most powerful thing in the world. It will help protect you from poison, just like it will make you feel good and safe and happy. So if something doesn't make you feel love in here,” and he patted the boy over his heart,” stay away from it!”

Just Remember - chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next time Shiz came to visit he was angry to find Jesse still living in the hut in the village.

“What's wrong with you, you little wretch?” he cried. “Why are you still living here with this old woman? Does she feed you? Does she keep you warm? It's time you left! You are big now, you don't have to wait for someone else to take care of you anymore, unless you are afraid!”

“I'm not afraid,” Jesse told Shiz. “I stay here because I love the old woman, and I want to take care of her.”

Shiz looked hard at Jesse. “How can you love that old woman?” he asked sharply. “She doesn't love you! She doesn't even want you here. She only keeps you because you do her work for her. Don't you know that you will never get anywhere in this world by taking care of other people? You have to take care of yourself!”

When Emer came the next morning he found Jesse deep in thought.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted the boy, giving him a big hug. “I am so proud of you and the way you take care of the old woman. You act just like your father, the King,”

“Shiz says I should take care of myself, too,” Jesse told Emer. “He says if I don't take care of myself, no one else will.”

“What do you think the King would do?” Emer asked the boy.

“I think he would stay here and take care of the old woman,” Jesse said finally. “But I wish we had more food to eat. Would a prince really live like this?”

“Not usually,” Emer told him. “Most of the time princes live in castles and their fathers take care of them. Some day, when you grow up, you will live in the castle with your father. But right now you get to prove how much you are like him by taking care of the old woman. Maybe you could help her plant a bigger garden, so you could grow more food.”

Jesse worked hard gathering wood and taking care of the garden so he and the old woman would have enough food. He worked so hard he didn't have time to play with the other children in the village, but at least he wasn't hungry or cold any more.

Sometimes, when the kids saw him working in the garden, they would laugh at him and call him names. It made him sad that he didn't have any friends, but then he thought, “I am the son of the King, and I am doing what a prince would do.” That made him feel warm and better inside.

When Jesse was nine years old his foster mother died. That made him very sad, because he had learned to love her while he took care of her. That year when Shiz visited, the wicked wizard yelled and screamed.

“Look how skinny you are!” he said. “What's wrong with you? Are you too scared to take care of yourself? I see the sheep on the edge of the cliff. Why don't you steal them? They could fall over anyway. No one would know you killed them! If you don't start eating right you will never grow big and strong!”

When Emer came the next day, he could see that Jesse was sad. He hugged the boy tightly, and asked him what was wrong.

“Shiz says I should eat more meat,” Jesse told Emer. “He says I won't grow up big and strong if I don't take care of myself, and that I should either steal some of farmer Owen's sheep, or I should leave this village and go into the mountains to live with the robbers. Doesn't a king need to be strong?”

“Yes,” Emer told him. “A king should be strong, for sure. And healthy. What do you think your father would do?”

“I don't know,” sighed the boy. “I know he wouldn't steal the sheep.”

“You see,” Emer smiled at him, “you already think like a king. I am so proud of you. You know, Jesse, there are lots of ways to become strong. Just eating meat won't give you strength.”

“Shiz says I should live with the robbers in their caves because they can teach me how to be really strong,” Jesse said. “He says they are strong because they eat lots of meat, and drink wine.”

“Oh,” Emer said. “Yes, the robbers do eat lots of meat, and drink lots of wine, and some of them are very strong, but I don't think that's the reason why. Strong men are usually the ones who work the hardest.”

“Does wine make you strong?” Jesse wanted to know.

“It makes you think you are strong,” Emer told him. “There are things that can fool people into believing they are good for them, but really they aren't.”

“How will I know if something is bad for me?” Jesse asked.

“You have a warning voice inside that will help you know when something is going to hurt you,” Emer told him. “It's the same voice that tells you who you really are. When you get a feeling that something is bad, listen to that feeling, and you'll be OK.”

Emer looked at Jesse's sad face, and asked, “What else is bothering you, Your Majesty?”

“Shiz says I should go live with the robbers so I won't have to live all alone,” he finally told the wizard.

“You would like to have some friends, wouldn't you,” Emer said kindly. “It is hard to be lonely, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Jesse admitted. “The kids in our village won't play with me, they laugh and call me names. I tried to tell them I was really the son of the King, but that made them laugh even more. They said if I was the King's son, he would come and take me to his castle.”

“How do you feel in here?” Emer asked the boy, patting him over his heart?

“I don't know,” Jesse cried. “Just kind of lonely, and scared.”

“Shh,” Emer whispered. “Be still and listen to your heart.” He pulled the boy up onto his lap, even though Jesse was too big to be held anymore, and hugged him. “How do you really feel in your heart?”

“I feel warmer,” Jesse finally said, “and safe.”

“Who does your heart say you are?” asked Emer.

“I am a prince, the son of a king!”

Emer smiled. “There will always be people who tell you that you are nobody, and it will hurt, but if you listen to your heart, you will know who you really are.”

“I wish people liked me,” Jesse said.

“It is is good to have friends,” Emer agreed. “but the best way to have people like you is to be a friend to them.”

“How?”

“What would the King do?”

Jesse thought for awhile, then finally said, “Maybe help them?”

Emer nodded. “You know, Jesse, people don't love the King because he is the king. They love him because he takes good care of them. Being a king means you are the servant for all the people in your kingdom, and you have to work harder than anyone else to take care of them. What do you suppose you could do to help the people here, in your village?”

Jesse thought for a long time. Finally he looked up at Emer and said, “Well, there is Farmer Owen. His sheep keep getting close to the edge of the cliff, and sometimes they fall over. Maybe I could make a fence to keep them safe.”

Emer smiled. “Now that is exactly something the King would do! I am so proud of you, Jesse,” and he hugged the boy again. It felt good, and Jesse couldn't help remembering what Emer always told him, “The most powerful thing in the world is love.”

Just Remember, Chapter 1 continued

Chapter 2

By the time Jesse was seven, he had grown into a fine boy. He was tall for his age and stronger than the older boys because he worked so hard to help his foster mother. He was also a very good boy, because he wanted to be like his father, the king.

That year, when Shiz came to visit him, he glared at Jesse.

“Why are you still living here with this old woman?” he wanted to know. “Why haven't you run away and gone to live in the mountains with the thieves and robbers? That's who you are, you know. Your father was a thief, and you will grow up to be one, too.”

The little boy stared at the evil wizard in horror. Was this true? Was his father really a thief?

“Emer told me I was really a prince, the son of the king,” he told Shiz.

“A prince?” the wizard laughed. “Ha! Why would a prince live in a hut like this? If you are a prince why doesn't the king come and take you home to his palace? Look at you! You aren't a prince, you're nothing but a skinny, worthless thief, the son of a robber. Look around you! You live in a hut, you have nothing to eat, and it's freezing in here. Why don't you at least have a big fire to keep you warm?”

“We don't have enough wood,” the boy said.

“Then, get some!” roared the wizard. “I've seen the wood piles of your neighbors. Go out and steal wood from them while they are sleeping! You will never have enough of what you need if you don't take it for yourself!”

The next day when Emer came, Jesse said, “Shiz told me I should run away and live with the robbers. But I don't want to,” he added before Emer could say anything. “I just don't want to live here. Couldn't I run away and go back to the castle to live?”

Emer smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair. He was so pleased with the way the young prince was growing.

“I know it's hard living here,” Emer said, “but you can't go home to live in the castle until you grow up and prove you are worthy to be a king.”

“How soon will that be?” Jesse wanted to know.

“Not for a long time,” Emer said. “I'm sorry, Jesse. But I am so proud of you! You know, you look just like your daddy when he was a little boy.”

“Really?” Jesse asked. He loved to think about the king, and it made him feel good to think he looked like him.

“Really,” Emer told him, ruffling his dark hair and hugging Jesse tightly.

“Emer, do you think it would it be OK if I took a little wood from our neighbors so we could have a bigger fire?” Jesse asked hopefully.

“You're the son of the king,” Emer told Jesse. “Do you think that's what a prince would do?”

Jesse shook his head slowly.

“Never forget, Jesse, that you are loved and wanted. You can feel that deep down inside, can't you?”

Jesse thought for a moment, and he did feel something warm and comfortable inside his chest.

“Love is the most powerful thing in the world,” Emer told Jesse as he pulled him close and hugged him tightly. “Always remember that. A King is honest, Jesse. He doesn't take things, he gives. The King's job is to take care of his people, and make sure they are safe and comfortable. Tell me, Jesse, do you think there is a way you could get more wood for your fire without stealing?”

“The men in the village go into the forest to cut down big trees for their fires,” the little boy told Emer. “But I am too small, and I don't have an ax, so I have to gather wood around our house. There isn't much here, since we live next to the canyon. I'm afraid to go too close to the edge. I don't want to fall over.”

“If you are careful, you should be able to gather the wood among the boulders above the cliff,” Emer said after thinking for awhile. “I think you are big and smart enough to go close to the canyon, just watch where you walk. If a rock is loose, don't climb on it. Stay on the steady boulders and you will be safe.”

So Jesse began to gather wood along the edge of the canyon.. At first he was a little frightened, because the canyon was deep and he was afraid he might fall over the side of the cliff, but little by little he got braver and braver as he learned which rocks were steady and which ones were loose.

Just Remember - Chapter 1

Jesse's earliest memories were of the two wizards who visited him once a year. It frightened him when the evil wizard, Shiz came. He was tall and mean, and he always came during the middle of the night, when it was dark and cold.

“You're a little wretch,” the wizard told the small boy, and he sneered when Jesse stared at him with fright. “Look at you, you skinny little crybaby! I can't believe anyone wants you to live with them. Why haven't they sent you off to live with the robbers, yet? That's where you belong!”

On the other hand, Jesse loved Emer's visits. He always came early in the morning, and he'd spend the whole day holding the child, loving and hugging him and calling him “Your majesty,” and “Sire.”

“You don't really belong here in this village,” Emer told Jesse. “You are really the son of the king, you are a prince, and some day, if you live well and stay as good as you are now, you will go home and live with your father in his castle.”

That made Jesse happy. It would be nice to live in a palace with plenty of food, warm clothes, and a father who loved him. The little hut he lived in was not a very nice place, and the old woman who took care of him was not very loveable.

When the wizards took Jesse away from the castle, they dropped him off on the edge of a poor, tiny village. An old woman found him, and took him to her hut, but not because she felt sorry for the little boy. She just thought it would be good to have someone to take care of her. She was a crabby, unloving old thing, and the little boy was often sad and lonely, as well as cold and hungry.

“Steal food out of the cupboard when the old woman is asleep,” Shiz told Jesse when he came to visit. “She is almost blind, and deaf. She won't catch you!”

But Emer said, “You are a prince. I know you are hungry, but a king wouldn't steal food. Instead, help the old woman work in the garden so she can grow more food. That's what your father would do. Always remember, love is the most powerful thing in the world. If you treat the old woman with love, you will feel safe and warm in here,” and he tapped the little boy on the chest, over his heart. “You really will.”

Just Remember - Prologue

Prologue

Once upon a time, back in the days when magic was still on the earth, there was an evil wizard named Shiz. He was very powerful, and mean and wicked. Shiz wanted to rule the world, and everyone in it.

Shiz believed he was the most powerful wizard on the earth, and he believed that everyone was just like him, mean and evil and selfish.

There was another wizard who lived at the same time, who was also very powerful. His name was Emer. Emer was a good wizard, not like Shiz. He didn't use his magic to force people to do what he wanted. He was good and kind, and always tried to help people and make them happier. Emer believed that inside, most people were good, like him, and if they were left to themselves they would try to help each other and be kind and nice.

Shiz hated Emer. He wanted to prove that he was the most powerful wizard, and he challenged Emer to all kinds of duels and contests, but no matter how hard he fought, he could never prove that evil was more powerful than good.

At last, Shiz came up with a plan.

“We'll kidnap the kings son,” he said, “and take him far away from the palace and everything he knows. If, like you say, people are really good inside, then it won't matter where the prince is raised. He will still grow up to be kind and honorable, just like his father, and you will win. I'll admit that good is the most powerful force in the world and I'll leave this earth and never come back.”

“But, if I am right and people are really bad and evil, the little boy will grow up to be like the people he lives with, and it will prove that evil is more powerful. Then you will have to leave.”

“What will happen to the prince after he grows up?” Emer wanted to know.

“That depends,” Shiz told him. “If he grows up like his father, and is good and kind and just, even without his dad around to teach him, then when he is big he can go back to his father's palace and live with him forever, and everything his father owns will belong to him. But, if he isn't really good inside, if he grows up to be a normal person who lies and cheats and thinks only about himself, then when he is big he won't belong in a castle anyway, and will have to live with the common people.”

Emer thought about this plan. He hated to take the prince away from his father, but he really did believe that good was stronger than evil, and that the most powerful force in the world was love.

“All right,” he finally said. “I'll agree to your contest, but on one condition. While the prince is living away from his father, once a year we will each get to visit him.”

Shiz laughed. This was one of the stupid things Emer believed, that love would take care of everything, and if someone knew who they were, really knew it, then they would become that person. Shiz knew that no matter what Emer told the child during his visits, it wouldn't be enough to make him grow up like a king, so he agreed, and the contest began.

French Silk Pie

When I first moved to Snowflake we lived across the street from a sweet, older lady who was loosing her eye sight. One day she asked me if to help her set the temperature on her stove. She was baking biscuits for a 911 commemorative breakfast the next day, and she couldn't see to set the dial high enough.

After that I made up my mind to go over and visit with her every few weeks, and we always ended up talking about food. During our first visit she told me that she had collected recipes for many years, and had even published a cook book. One of her favorite recipes was for French Silk Pie. My new friend fondly described the first time she had tasted a French Silk Pie at a fancy restaurant, and then how she had searched for years to find the recipe because it was so good. It sounded delicious, so she told me how to make it.

The next time I visited, my friend asked if I had tried making a French Silk Pie. I had to admit I hadn't. We talked again about how it melted in your mouth and tasted amazing, and this time she even gave me a copy of her cookbook so I would have the recipe right in front of me. I went home thinking about that pie, and even skimmed through the cook book, but I didn't get around to looking up the French Silk Pie recipe.

Next visit we talked about the pie again, and I made excuses for why I hadn't tried it, but I felt bad. As soon as I got home I got out the cook book and looked for the recipe for French Silk Pie. It looked easy, except it called for 3 oz of unsweetened chocolate, which I never had on hand, so I couldn't make it. I did buy a box of unsweetened chocolate the next time I went to the store, but I still didn't get around to making the pie.

I took a plate of Christmas cookies over to my friend the next time I visited, and she asked if I'd tried the pie. I had to make excuses again, but told her I really was going to make it soon. A couple of days before Christmas we had guests over for dinner, and I wanted to make something special for them. I remembered the pie, so I decided to try making one. It was so easy, I was really surprised, but I was totally amazed when we cut it that night and I put the first bite in my mouth. Oh, my goodness! It did melt in your mouth, and it was yummy!

I made more pies for Christmas dinner, and more again for New Years, and have been making French Silk Pie for every special occasion since. I love it! But it made me think. How many other things in life have I put off doing, just like baking that pie, only to discover when I finally got around to it how wonderful it was, and wish I hadn't procrastinated so long?

French Silk Pie

1 baked pie crust 3 squares (1 oz each) unsweetened chocolate

1 C powdered sugar 3 eggs

3/4 C softened butter (not margarine!) 1 tsp vanilla

Bake pie shell; cool. Beat powdered sugar and butter in bowl until light and fluffy.

Melt chocolate in small bowl in microwave for 1 minute, take out and stir. If not

fully melted, put back in for 30 seconds at a time until melted. Stir in vanilla and

stir until cooled. Beat chocolate into butter. Beat in eggs, one at a time.

Pour into pie shell and refrigerate 3 to 4 hours. Can be topped with whipped cream

or eaten plain, either way it is delicious!

Comfortable

Once there were two sisters whose parents died. They were left the family ranch, but it wasn't doing so good. The sisters, one blonde and one brunette, decided the best thing they could do was buy a bull and start breeding cattle. They only had $600, so they watched the newspapers until they found an add for a bull that was being sold at a ranch on the other side of the state. The sisters decided they should check it out, so the brunette took a bus to the distant ranch, telling her sister that if it turned out to be a good deal she would wire her to drive out and haul them home.

The brunette found that the bull was really good and the rancher only wanted $599 for him. She hurried into town to send her sister a telegram.
"I need to send a wire to my sister," she told the telegraph operator. "It has to say that I bought a bull, and now my sister needs to hook up the trailer to the pickup and drive out here so she can haul us home."

The telegraph operator said he could easily send a telegram to the sister, but it would cost $1 a word. The brunette had just paid $599 for the bull. She only had $1 left, so she thought about it for a minute. How could she send only one word to her sister? Finally she told the telegraph operator to send the word "comfortable."

The telegraph operator scratched his head and asked, "How is your sister going to know that you want her to hitch the trailer to your pickup and drive out here to haul that bull back to your ranch if you send her just the word, comfortable?"

The burnette smiled. "Well, my sister is a blonde," she explained. "Comfortable is a big word, so she will read it very slowly..... Com-for-da-bull."

The Next Town

A Folk Tale About Worlds A traveler came upon an old farmer hoeing in his field beside the road. Eager to rest his feet, the wanderer hailed the countryman, who seemed happy enough to straighten his back and talk for a moment.
"What sort of people live in the next town?" asked the stranger.
"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer, answering the question with another question.
"They were a bad lot. Troublemakers all, and lazy too. The most selfish people in the world, and not a one of them to be trusted. I'm happy to be leaving the scoundrels."
"Is that so?" replied the old farmer. "Well, I'm afraid that you'll find the same sort in the next town."
Disappointed, the traveler trudged on his way, and the farmer returned to his work.
Some time later another stranger, coming from the same direction, hailed the farmer, and they stopped to talk. "What sort of people live in the next town?" he asked.
"What were the people like where you've come from?" replied the farmer once again.
"They were the best people in the world. Hard working, honest, and friendly. I'm sorry to be leaving them."
"Fear not," said the farmer. "You'll find the same sort in the next town."

How to Get to Heaven

My parents were a good example of a happily married couple. They were married for almost 58 years, and although they didn’t agree on everything, I don’t remember ever hearing them argue. Once in awhile I could tell they were unhappy with each other because of the tension in the air, but still they were polite.

Very often it is the wife who works hardest keeping the peace and giving in rather than fighting, but in my parents case dad also tried.

When I was older dad told me about a time early in their marriage that changed the way he treated mom. They had had a disagreement that made him really mad. After arguing during the day he went to bed that night fuming, knowing he was right and that she had better repent or she would never make it to heaven.

“I woke up in the middle of the night with a start,” dad told me. “I don't know if I'd just had a really vivid dream, or if the Lord actually spoke to me, but I remembered clearly these words:

“Even if Eleanor is wrong, it doesn’t matter. Unless you make her happy you won’t go to heaven!”

After that, even though dad wasn’t perfect, he made up his mind to make mom as happy as he could the rest of his life. And he really did.

The Present

It was the end of the school year, and a kindergarten teacher was receiving gifts from her students. The florist’s son handed her a present. She shook it, held it overhead, and said, “I bet I know what this is. Some flowers?”

“That’s right,” the little boy replied, “but how did you know?”

“Oh, I'm just a good guesser,” the teacher answered.

The next student was a candy shop owner’s daughter. The teacher held her gift overhead, shook it, and said, “I bet I can guess what this is. A box of sweets?”

“That’s right, teacher, but how did you know?” asked the little girl.

“Oh, just a wild guess,” said the teacher.

The next gift was from the son of a liquor store owner. The teacher held the package overhead, but it was leaking. She touched a drop of the liquid with her finger and licked it. “Is it wine?” she asked the little boy with a big smile.

“No.” the boy replied happily.

The teacher repeated the process, taking a larger drop of the leakage to her tongue. “Is it champagne?” she asked.

“No,” the boy replied, grinning even bigger.

The teacher took one more taste before declaring, “I give up, what is it?”

With glee, the little boy replied, “It’s a puppy!”

The Zipper

A couple had a real humdinger of a fight one day, and stopped talking to each other for a whole week.  By Saturday they were still mad, but the wife had a meeting in the afternoon which she had to attend. As she dressed, she found she couldn’t reach her zipper and needed her husband’s help.  Not about to talk to him, she motioned with her hands until he got the point.  As he zipped her up, the husband jabbed the zipper into his wife's back a couple of times, just to let her know that he was still mad.

When the wife got home a few hours later she saw her husband’s car in the driveway with his legs sticking out underneath it. Burning with righteous indignation over his cruelty earlier in the day, she  reached down and grabbed his zipper as she passed, jabbing it in a couple of times to get back at her husband. Vindicated, she walked on into the house, where she got the shock of her life when she saw her husband sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of water! 

“Who was that man out under your car?” she gasped.

Surprised she was talking to him, her husband replied, “Our new neighbor.  He offered to take at look the leak under my car.”

Horrified, the wife told him what she had done, and her husband ran outside to try to explain to his neighbor why someone had just jabbed him with his zipper.  He called his friend’s name but know one answered, so the husband bent down and looked under the car.  There lay the neighbor, unconscious.  The poor fellow had been so surprised when a strange woman jabbed him with his zipper that he sat straight up, hit his head on the car, and knocked himself out cold!

Needless to say, this couple never gave each other the silent treatment ever again.