 Thanks so much for coming. I'm G. Richard Ames, but for tonight you can call me Jolly Old St. Rick. Yeah, I'm going to slay you with some bad jokes tonight. And there won't be any snow, honey, but there might be some rain here. So, okay, that's where it ends. So, you know, we have signs introducing our great season for next year. You'll be able to buy season tickets at Inhibition, if you haven't already before the show. You'll be able to buy 50-50 wrap-up tickets at Inhibition, which will be drawn after Inhibition, if you haven't already. That will go to support our education programs. Our first camp is in February. Our donation jars are up there, but we thank you for coming to this free event. No compulsion, but you know, if those coins or bills are just going to fall out of the street, they as well fall under those jars. And we've got some great storytellers here tonight. We've got a little more room on the carpet if anybody wants to come up, and any of you can be part of faders or rugrats. And you're going to enjoy the show. You all like to hear stories. What kind of story do you like to hear? Christmas story. We've got a couple of those, and we've got stories from all other sorts of traditions. Jewish traditions and Native American traditions. Eastern stories. And so I hope all of you had a great holidays. If you celebrate holidays, I hope all of you celebrate anything else that's coming up, or it's happening now. Have greats, whatever that is. And we're celebrating the solstice. The days will be getting longer again soon, although not soon enough. And, yeah, I mean, what time does it get dark now? Four o'clock? So without further ado, well, I guess I do need to mention that case of an emergency. What's that? Do you have something to say? It's too cold for that right now, but we are going to bear our souls at least. The way you came in is the way you go out in case of an emergency. And there are emergency exits back there, if need be. But we're not going to have a fire here tonight. I wanted to put a U-Log in the fireplace, but CBD wouldn't let me. No, it's CBD. And so without further ado, let's begin with a story called Herschel and Hanukkah, read to us by an active performer by Mora O'Brien. Three lights burned in all the red bebeleesh's menorah. It was so quiet in the study house, one could hear the wick in the ceiling lamp sucking kerosene. Red bebeleesh was saying, children, when one lives as long as I do, one sees many things and has many stories to tell. What I am going to tell you now happened in the village of Gorshkow. Gorshkow is a small village even today. But when I was a boy, the marketplace was the entire village. They used to joke whenever a peasant comes with his car to Gorshkow, the head of the horse is at one end of the village, and the rear wheels of the car are at the other end. Fields and forests surrounded Gorshkow on all sides. A man by the name of Rebbe Isaac Seldis, who lived there, managed a huge estate owned by a Polish squire. Rebbe Isaac managed the property with skill. The squire used to flog the peasants when they did something wrong, or if the mood struck him. But Rebbe Isaac spoke to the peasants as if they were his equals and they were loyal to him. Rebbe Isaac and his wife Kendall had everything except for children. This caused them grief. They lived in the Lord's house that had once belonged to the present squire's grandfather. But what use is a big house for only two people, just a husband and wife. However, they both had the poor relatives whose children used to come and live in the estate. Rebbe Isaac hired a teacher to to instruct the boys in the Bible and the Talmud. Kendall taught the girls how to show and knit and to do needlepoint. They stitched Bible scenes on the canvas and with color to thread like the story of Abraham attempting to sacrifice his only son on an altar and an angel preventing him from doing it. Or Jacob meeting Rachel at the well and removing the stone so she could bring her water, bring water for her sheep. Hanukkah was always a gay occasion in Rebbe Isaac's house. After blessing the candles, he gave Hanukkah money to all the children and they all played cradle. Kendall and her maids fried potato pancakes in the kitchen and they were served with jam and tea. Often poor people turned up in the estate and whoever came hungry and then tattered clothes and with no shoes on their feet, they left with a full belly and warm clothing and proper footwear. One Hanukkah evening when the children were playing cradle, Rebbe Isaac heard a scratching at the door. If guests visited the estate in the winter, they came during the day, not in the evening. Rebbe Isaac opened the door himself and to his amazement on the other side of the threshold stood a fawn still without antlers. Normally an animal keeps away from human beings but this fawn seemed hungry, cold and emaciated. Rebbe stared in wonder at the fawn and then he took the young animal by its throat and brought it into the house. When the children saw the fawn or they forgot about the cradle and Hanukkah gifts, they were all thrilled with the charming animal or when they saw the fawn, they were so happy. When Kendall saw it, she almost dropped the plate of pancakes that she was holding. This little creature brought much joy to everyone in the house. All agreed that the fawn should not be let out again in the woods, which teamed with wolves and foxes, marten and even bears. So they made a bed of hay for the fawn in one of the rooms and soon it fell asleep. Rebbe Isaac thought that soon the children would return to their games, but all they could talk about was the fawn and Rebbe Isaac and Kendall had to give them a solemn promise to keep it safe in the house until after Passover. Now the children had extracted that promise. A new debate began. What should we call the fawn? What will be its name? Almost everyone wanted to call it Herschel, which is the Yiddish word for fawn, but for some strange reason Kendall said, oh you are not going to name it for that. Why not? The children and even the grown-ups asked an astonishment. I have a reason. When Kendall said no, she meant no. The children had to come up with another name and then Kendall said, oh children, I have it. The easy that the children asked and Kendall said, Hanukkah. No one had ever heard of an animal called Hanukkah, but they liked it. Only now did the children start to eat their pancakes and they washed them down with tea and jam. And then they began to play Dreadful games again and they were there till midnight. Late at night when Rebbe Isaac and Kendall went to bed, Rebbe Isaac asked Kendall, why didn't you want to name the fawn Herschel? And Kendall said, this is a secret. A secret for me? Isaac said, since we married, you've never had a secret for me. And Kendall entered with this tie, I cannot tell you. When will you tell me? Isaac asked, and Kendall said the secret will reveal itself. Rebbe Isaac had never heard his wife speak in riddles, but it was not his nature to insist or probe. Now, dear children, I am going to tell you the secret even before Kendall told Rebbe Isaac weeks earlier and all the men came to the estate with a sack on his back and the cane in his hand. He had a white beard and white sidewalks. When Kendall gave him food to eat, he took a large volume out of his sack and while he ate, he read it. Kendall had never seen a beggar behave like a rabbi and a scholar. She asked him, why do you carry books on your back on the heady? And the old man replied, the Torah is never heavy. His words impressed Kendall. So she began to talk to him and she told him how grieved she was to not have a child. Suddenly she heard herself say, I see that you are a holy man. Please pray to God for me and give me your blessing. I promise you, if your blessing is answered in heaven, I will give you a sack full of silver goldens when you return and you will never need to beg for alms. I promise you that in one year's time, you will have a child. Oh please holy man, Kendall said, give me a token or a sign that your promise will come true. And the old man said, sometime before your child is conceived, an animal will enter your house. When the child is born, call it by the name of the animal. Please remember my words. Before the old man left, Kendall wanted to give him clothes and food, but he said, God will provide all this for me. I don't need to prepare ahead. Besides, my set is filled with sacred books and there's no place for anything else. He lifted his hand over Kendall's head and he blessed her. Then he left as quietly as he had come. Kendall pondered the words of this strange man, but she did not tell her husband about his visit. She did not want to arouse hopes in Isaac that might never come true. That night, when the phone came into the house, Kendall understood that this was the animal the beggar had mentioned. Since the phone is called Herschel in Yiddish, she would give birth to a male child and call him Herschel. Kendall's words that the secret would reveal itself soon came true. She became pregnant and Rabbi Isaac understood that the coming of the phone was an omen of this hoped-for event. He said, when our child is born, if it is a male, we will call him Herschel. And Kendall then thought, as you wish, my beloved. So it will be. With the head past spring had come. Hanukkah had been growing in the winter months and he sprouted antlers. Everyone could see that the animal was no longer happy indoors. His beautiful eyes expressed the yearning to go back to the forest. One morning, Kendall gave Hanukkah a tasty meal of hay mixed with chopped potatoes and carrots and then opened the gates to the fields and forests. Hanukkah gave his mistress a look and said, and he then to the green pastures in the woods. Kendall predicted that in the winter Hanukkah would turn up again. But Rabbi Isaac said, such things cannot be foretold. Hanukkah has grown up and an adult of the year can find its own food, even in the winter. Not long after Kendall gave birth to a healthy baby boy, all with dark hair and brown eyes and there was great joy in the house. The happy father and mother had prepared a special recast for the poor on the day of the circumcision ceremony. Rabbi Isaac and Kendall hoped that the beggar might hear about it and come, but they never came. The summer drew to a close. The feast of Hanukkah approached and although everyone wondered what had happened to the fawn in the cold weather, nobody spoke about it, so it's not to worry, Kendall. This winter was even more severe than the last one. The whole estate was buried in snow. On the first night of Hanukkah, Kendall and the maids, they were busy frying pancakes. After that, Isaac blessed the first light on the Kendall and gave coins to the children. They sat down to play cradle. The baby herself slept in his cradle, but the fawn didn't come that night. Rabbi Isaac comforted Kendall by quoting the gemara, miracles that don't happen every day. Kendall shook her head. Oh, I hope to God that Hanukkah is not hungry and cold. On the second night of Hanukkah, while all the children were playing the cradle, they heard a scratching on the door. Kendall had to open it and climb out with joy as the door stood Hanukkah. Already a half grown deer, his body silvery with fussed. He had come to stay for the winter. Herschel woke up from his nap with all the noise and when he was shown that the animal, he stretched out his little hand toward him. Hanukkah licked his hand with his tongue as if he knew that Herschel was his main faith. From then on, the deer came to the estate every year and always about the time of Hanukkah. He became a big stag with large antlers. Herschel grew too, although not as fast as the deer. The third winter, the deer brought a doe with him. It seemed that he had fought for his mate with another stag because part of his antlers was broken. Hanukkah and his mate were taken in. That bearish paused a long while. The lights and the brass lamp were still burning. The children felt that the little flames were also listening to the story. Then the boy asked, did the old baker ever come back? No, I never heard that he did, but you can be sure that this man was not just an ordinary baker. What was he? asked the boy. The prophet Elijah, red bearish said. It is known that Elijah is the angel of good tidings. He never comes in the image of an angel. People would go blind if they looked into the dazzling light of an angel. He always comes disguised as a poor man. Even the Messiah, according to the testament, will come in the disguise of a poor man riding on a donkey. Now you can go home and play Daya. Will you tell us another story tomorrow? Another boy asked, no, the red replied, Oh, with God's help, I have lived long and I have more stories to tell you than you have hairs in your silence. A lovely story, Menorah. That's the Menorah, that's Menorah. Oh, there is, there is a fire in here after all, and Stevie D said, like, there be lights and there was, and it was good. Oh, I shouldn't have done that. Oh, now I'm all burned. Can you, can you help me? Can you, can you touch my hand and make it feel better? Can you help? Okay, you did it. You did it. It feels better. It's a Christmas miracle. My naked hand feels better. I told you we'd have a naked story. There you go. Okay. Hey, we aim to play this. So now we have a wrenching and heartfelt and historic song, some played and sung by Michael Manion. I believe this is from World War I, Christmas Intrentions. Yeah, so I'm going to tell you a story that's actually a song. This was written by a fellow named John McCutcheon, and it's about something that actually happened in World War II, World War I. And I'd like to dedicate the way that he's accustomed to dedicating, service men and women who are not able to be with us this time of year. My prayer can be that you're going to bring them home soon and that you'll never have to give them country. The frozen fields of France were still a song His back in England were a toastiness that day Their brave and glorious lads so far away Through my messmates on, there's a battle theme, the most peculiar sound Since I now listen up to me boys, each soldier strange to hear As one young German voice sang out so please rest inside Gas clouds rolled no more, those were spent God-crushed me, very gentleman Struck up some lads, we can't decide nice as I Was one song filled up that scallion-centric ride All sights were fiddling from their side His troops flied like a Christmas star Soccer game, lists, cigarettes and photographs from home These sons and fathers, far away from families of their own Fox, they had a violin, Western haunted every heart That beat that wondrous night Whose family have I fixed within my side This is a story by Aaron made a sweet resting place Grew a pretty little fir tree, yet it was not happy It wished so much to be told were the fresh air And it took no interest in the peasant children who ran about it chattering Oh, isn't it a nice little tree, they would say? It's the baby of the woods The little tree didn't like their remarks at all Oh, to grow and that is the most wonderful thing in the world Rejoice in your youth, said the sunbeams Take pride in your growing strength And in the stir of life within you And the wind kissed the tree And the dew wept over it For the tree was young and didn't understand When Christmas came, quite young trees were cut down Trees which often were not even as large or at the same age as this fir tree Who could never rest but always wanted to be off These young trees and they were always the finest looking Were laid on carts and horses drew them out of the wood Where can they be going? the fir tree wondered They are no taller than I am That one was really much smaller than I am Where can they be going? We know, saying the sparrows We have looked in at the windows of the houses in the town And we know what is done with them They are dressed up in the most splendid manner We have seen them standing in the middle of a warm room And adorned with all sorts of beautiful things Honey cakes and gilded apples play things and many hundred wax tapers I wonder if I was created for such a glorious future The fir tree rejoiced Oh, I am tormented with longing Oh, if Christmas would only come How I wish I were already in the cart On my way to a warm room where there's so much splendor and glory And then, then something even better Something still more important is bound to happen Or why would they deck me so fine? Yes, there must be something still grander But what? Oh, how I long... What's the matter with me? Rejoice in our presence, said the air and the sunlight Rejoice in our own fresh youth But the tree did not rejoice at all It just grew It grew and was green both winter and summer And people who passed had said There's a beautiful tree And when Christmas time came, they cut it down first The axe struck deep in its marrow And the tree sighed as it fell to the ground It felt faint with pain Instead of the happiness it had expected The tree was sorry to leave the home where it had grown up It knew that never again would it see its dear old comrades The little bushes and the flowers that grew about it And perhaps not even the birds The departure was anything but pleasant The tree did not get over it Until all the trees were unloaded in a courtyard And it heard a man say Well that's a splendid one, that's the tree for us And then two servants came in fine livery And carried the fir tree into a big splendid drying room How the tree quivered What would come next? The servants and even the young ladies Came and helped it on with fine decorations Gilded apples and walnuts hung in clusters As if they grew there And a hundred little white blue And even red candles were fastened to its twig And up at the top was set a large gold tinsel star Oh, that the tree, if only tonight would come And after that, what happens then? Will the trees come trooping out of the woods to see me? Will the sparrows flock in the windows? Shall I take root here and stand in fine ornaments All summer and winter long? That was how much the tree knew about it All its longing had gone to its bark And set it to aching Which is as bad for a tree as a headache is for us Suddenly the folding doors were thrown back And a whole flock of children burst in As if they would overturn the tree completely For a moment, but only for a moment The young ones were stricken speechless But then they shouted till the rafters rang They danced about the tree and plucked off One present after another They went about it in such earnest that the branches crackled And if the tree had not been tied to the ceiling By the gold star on the top, it would have tumble over What are they up to, the tree wondered And what will happen next? A story, a story, cried the children Drawing a little fat man toward the tree The fat little man told them all about Humpty Dumpty Who tumbled downstairs yet ascended the throne And married a princess The fir tree stood very still as it pondered How the birds in the woods had never told a story equal to this All that night the tree just stood silent As it dreamed its dreams The tree looked forward to the following day When they would deck it again With fruits and toys and candles and gold Tomorrow the tree decided I'll enjoy my splendor to the full Well the next morning the butler and the maid came And dragged the tree upstairs to the attic And they left it in a dark corner where no daylight ever came What's the meaning of this? The tree wondered Days and nights went by But nobody came to the attic And when last someone did come It was only to put many big boxes away in a corner The tree was quite hidden One might think it had been entirely forgotten It is still winter outside the tree thought The earth is too hard and covered with snow For them to plant me now I must have been put here for shelter Until springtime comes How thoughtful of them Only I wish it weren't so dark here And so very, very lonely Squeep, squeep Said a little mouse just then He crept across the floor and another one followed him They sniffed the fir tree and rustled in and out Among its branches It is fearfully cold, one of them said But except for that it would be very nice here You old fir tree I'm not at all old, said the fir tree Many trees are much colder than I Well where did you come from, the mice asked him And what do you know? They were most inquisitive creatures Tell us about the most beautiful place in the world Have you been there? Were you ever in the larder Where the cheeses are on shelves And ham hams from the ceiling Well I know nothing of that place of the tree But I know the woods where the sun shines And the little birds sing And then it told them about its youth The little mice had never heard the like of it They listened very intently and said My, how much you have seen And how happy it must have made you I, the fir tree thought about it Yes, those days were rather amusing And it went on to tell them about Christmas Eve When it was decked out with candies and candles Oh, said the little mice Oh how lucky you have been, you old fir tree I am not at all old, it insisted I came out of the woods just this winter And I am really in the prime of life Although at the moment my growth is suspended How nicely you tell things, said the mice The next night they came with four other mice To hear what the tree had to say And the more it talked The more it recalled things and thought Those were happy times But they may still come back They may come back again Humpty dumpty fell down the stairs And yet he married a princess Maybe the same thing will happen to me Oh, who is Humpty Dumpty? The mice asked And so the fir tree told him the whole story For it could remember it word by word The little mice were ready to jump to the top of the tree For joy That next night many more mice came to see the fir tree And on Sunday two rats played a call But they said the story was not very amusing Is that the only story you know? The rats asked Only that one the tree answered And I heard it on the happiest evening of my life But I did not know then how happy I was What's a very silly story? Don't you know one that tells about bacon and candles? Can't you tell us a good larder story? No, said the tree Well then goodbye and we won't be back The rats said and went away And at last the little mice took to saying away too The tree sighed Oh, wasn't it so pleasant when those little mice sat around And listened to all that I had to say Now that too was passed and gone But I will take good care to enjoy myself once they let me out of here Well that came to pass on a morning when people came to clean out the attic The boxes were moved and the servant dragged the tree to the stairway Where there was daylight again Now my life will start over the tree thought It felt the fresh air and the first sunbeam strike it As it came out into the courtyard The courtyard adjoined a garden where flowers were blooming Great masses of fragrant roses hung over the picket fence The linden trees were in blossom And between them the swallow skimped past Oh, now I shall live again, the tree rejoiced And tried to stretch out its branches Alas, they were glittered and brown and brittle It was tossed into a corner among weeds and nettles But the gold star was still tied to the top of its head And sparkled bravely in the sunlight Several of the merry children who had danced about the tree And taken such pleasure at it at Christmas Were playing in the courtyard One of the youngest seized upon it and tore off the tinsel star Hey, look what was still hanging on that ugly old Christmas tree the child said And stamped upon the branches until it cracked beneath his shoes The tree saw the beautiful flowers blooming freshly in the garden It saw itself and wished that they had left it in the darkest corner of the attic My days are over and pasts of the poor tree Why didn't I enjoy them while I could? Now they are gone, all gone A servant came and chopped the tree into little pieces The wood blazed beautifully under the big copper kettle And the fir tree moaned so deeply that each groan sounded like a muffled shot As each groan burst from it The tree thought of a bright summer day in the woods Or a starlet winter night It thought of Christmas Eve and thought of Humpty Dumpty Which was the only story it had ever heard or knew how to tell And so the tree was burned completely away The boys played about in the court And the youngest one wore on his breast the gold star Which the tree had worn on the happiest evening of its life Now that was gone And the tree was gone And gone too was the story All was gone for that's the way with all stories Yes, was it good? I want your opinion How are you? It seems you've trimmed down a bit Yes, but I don't mean to deal with you I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that was the best story so far What do you think? It's alright It's alright? Alright Okay Well, that was really old times among us Um, now next we have Cher Lassen reading through the middle At Edentide the king sat on a solitary throne Winter snow drummed its fingers on the windows And icicles hung like daggers from the roof I am weary, he said He drew his cloak around him like a crow Folding black wings and closed his eyes The boy Michael stood before him Holding a carved box It is a gift, he said There were bells on the boy's hat But since the death of the queen he too wore black The king sighed It might help pass the time, he said And so it was the great king opened the box Inside there was an opal rain Slacked blue as the boy's eyes And a letter sealed with wax The king said not a word It is the queen's ring, explained Michael She asked me to give it to you when she was gone The king's hand trembled as he opened the letter He read the queen's words, written as plain as footsteps in the snow Do one more thing For me, my king, my love Into the dark and nickel woods go forth to find the bear This child will give him my ring And when the bells ring out at morning tide Mark you closely how merrily they sing The king stared at the letter a long time before speaking I will not make this journey, he said It is not fitting for a king in mourning But she said it was important, said Michael I promised her The king's eyes glinted black Then we will go, he said finally But only because she wished it They walked in silence through the dark Michael's eyes were bright And he tried to catch a snowflake on his tongue Can you see, he said My breath makes words in the air He breathed out like a dragon and laughed The way is hard, said the king You best save your breath But it's so beautiful, said the boy The snow looks like sugar in the moonlight He flapped his arms like a bird Watch me, see how my shadow flies The king did not stop I have had enough of shadows For hours the boy kept pace with the king But increasingly he lagged behind He stopped once to watch an owl And another time he rested on the stump of a tree But he did not complain The king watched as Michael struggled to catch up We will try to find a place to rest, he said They walked together through the cold Until they saw a light Small as a firefly from a cottage in the distance Coming, coming, said the old woman at the cottage door She hobbled to the fireside Her back bent like a shepherd's crook Do you not know me, said the king I know you are a stranger who needs a bit of bread, she said And that is enough She stirred the fire in yellow cinders dance Like summer bees The king sat rigid and dark under the door I am used to the cold, he said Suit yourself, said the old woman She handed Michael a thick slice of buttered bread And plumped the quilt around his knees And will you stay the night, she asked We can rest only a little while, said the king We seek the old bear The woman wiped her hands on her apron They say, she said They bear as fierce as he is wise Michael shivered They say, said the woman The bear is as old as earth itself Enough, said the king We must go As they left the old woman wrapped a scarf around Michael's face Take care of this lad, she said to the king Keep him warm and safe She stood in the doorway and watched them until their distant shapes Like candles in the night flickered and went out It was near midnight when they entered the Micklewoods The moon peaked through the black fingers of the trees And Michael heard wolves howling in the distance Stay close, said the king sharply I will not lose you too Michael looked up McLean said that to me once, he said It was after my mother and father died And I was crying because I had gotten lost in the castle The king did not respond She told me I didn't have to be scared Because she would always take care of me, said the boy He shivered in the cold wind I miss her, he said I will not talk of this, said the king Come quickly now They walked together silently and by midnight they arrived at the cave We must wait here until we are called, said the king He looked at Michael's questioning face My father brought me here, he explained To hear the old stories Michael moved closer to the king McLean used to tell me stories, he whispered But the king turned his back as if the boy had not spoken It was not long before Michael heard the bear's voice Deep, like the rumbling of mountains The sound circled around him like a cloak Come, said the bear from within And slowly they entered the cave Michael saw the candles first Hundreds of candles that flickered brown shadows on the walls And then he saw the bear himself Large and golden as a haystack, seated in a carved oak chair My queen is dead, said the king, motioning the boy forward She asked that we bring you her ring The bear growled low like the sighing of the wind It has been a long time since you came to me, he said Have you a question? Why ask questions if there are no answers, said the king He turned as if to go, but the boy tugged on his arm The stories, Michael whispered What about the stories? We have done what the queen asked of the king But could we hear just one? We have no need to stay longer, said the king The bear growled again And this time Michael felt the ground tremble beneath his feet You have more need than you know Said the bear He drew them closer to the fire Consider this, he said In a kingdom long ago there was a man who traveled From the farthest city to the nearest town And as he went he traded things A pair of shoes for a piece of gold A parrot for a bolt of silver cloth Until he was more rich than he ever dreamed possible The people thought a man who had so many things must be wise And no matter where he went they followed him Asking him questions Our baby cries, said one What should we do? My father went to war How will we live? said another But though the traveling man could fetch goods from his sack And add up sons, he could not answer their questions One day he met an old woman who carried a wooden box Inside this box she said her answers to all things The traveling man said, I have seen many things But I would give all that I have to open that box Done, said the old woman When the traveling man lifted the lid He saw to his surprise that the box was filled with coins Each one was stamped with a curious sentence Open the door, said one Give him your love, said another One hundred and five, said a third The traveling man was overjoyed I am rich beyond measure, he said I have answers to all things The old woman smiled But what good is an answer, she said Without the right question The king stared at the fire But this traveling man was not a king, he said He was not a man whose queen was dead Whether we are born high or low, said the bear The same things come to us all Michael moved a little closer to the bear The queen used to say, I ask more questions Than there are flowers in the meadow The old bear drew him closer still And Michael felt the warmth of his fur One day, said the boy, I ask the queen Why black eyed, Susan's have only one eye And she laughed, I liked it when she laughed The king scowled, enough of this talk He said, I have given you the queen's ring As she asked him, we shall not stay longer This time the bearish growls shook the walls of the cave And made the candles flutter like moths Consider this, he said In a kingdom long ago there was a man who lived alone In spring he never sowed his seeds For fear there might be drought And in fall he would not travel Lest his ship be blown into the deep But though he locked his doors inside and out It did not bring him peace One day a bird, small and slight as a pebble Flew to his window He marveled at her green wings And at the beauty of her song I have heard that wind can uproot a tree From the ground, said the man Are you not afraid of wind? The bird cocked her head brightly Of course, she said And I have heard that fire can sweep a forest In a day the man said, are you not afraid of fire? Yes, she said Her wings thin as pages in a book Glinted in the yellow sunlight But if you are afraid, asked the man Why do you fly? Why do you build your nest? The bird cracked a grain of millet in her beak There are things I would not miss, she said Every day there is a morning, ripe as a peach She trilled a score of grace notes effortlessly And fledged things in the spring, of course Small things I do not wish to hear, these said the man What a winded fire The bird considered thoughtfully My song, she finally said, requires them all The man watched her fly away As frail and strong as ashes in the dancing in the air Michael looked up and smiled at the bear And was the man always afraid? He made his choice, said the bear, as we must all The king moved closer to the fire It is not as easy as the bird suggests, he said No, said the bear It is not easy Michael pulled his knees up to his chin The bird in the story reminded me of the queen She loved to sing The king stared at Michael thoughtfully When he finally spoke, his voice seemed crumbled Like the embers of the fire I cannot remember the sound of her voice, he whispered It was like bells, said the boy Listen, he jingled the bells on the hat the queen had made him I'd forgotten that, said the king And her hand said, Michael Do you remember how she used to make things? She had small hands, said the king He shuddered and for a moment could not speak I do not think I can bear to remember all of it, he said The bear growled low, his words bending around them Like a lullaby Can you bear to remember less, he asked Consider this In a kingdom long ago, there was a weaver Who spun stories out of thread One day an owl, as white as winter, perched in a nearby tree I should like my story to be woven out of clouds, said the owl As you wish, said the weaver The owl brought the woman strings of crowds As round as pearls But every time she tried to weave them in and out They would dissolve as quietly as dew upon the grass The owl blinked his great eyes Perhaps we should add some moonlight He said, the kind that shimmers on the water As you wish, wish, said the weaver But though the owl brought baskets of jeweled moonbeams Worth more than the king's own crown The story's cloth would not take shape I do not understand, said the owl I have chosen beautiful things for the weaving of my story Ah, said the woman But sometimes the cloth will pattern itself Whether we will or no You must bring everything Things chosen and things not The owl flew over mountains and two valleys He gathered jade as green as ginkgo leaves And raspberries red as blood He flew past peaceful villages and countries ravaged by war And when he returned with all the things that he had found The weaver smiled These will do, she said She took the things the owl had brought Threads of sunlight fine as silk and cobwebs gray as skulls And wove them all together into a cloth And when the owl pulled his story around him It was so full of woe and gladness So beautiful and strong That when he stretched out his new-made wings People thought he was an angel hovering in a breathless sky So it was, said the bear And so it will forever be The king sat alone without saying a word He turned to the boy, his face white as bones Slowly and deliberately he reached out his hand Do you remember, he said softly How she loved all things Michael hesitated Then timid and brave as a sparrow He climbed into the king's lap If I was sad, he said She would hold me So she did, said the king He cradled Michael in his arms As through the long night they slept Their dreams entwined like holly branches in a wreath When morning came they left the nickel wards They walked swiftly stopping to rest Only at the old woman's cottage Michael laughed as they stomped snow from their feet And knocked at the door We thank you for your kindness last night, said the king Fluttering about like a gray dove The old woman made them wait Until she'd wrapped a loaf of bread for the journey home Before they left the king pressed three gold coins into her hand It is small payment for bread so freely given, he said The king walked steadily as Michael ran ahead Then ran back, never seeming to tire Look, Michael said And they watched the orange sun deftly escape The tangled web of branches above them When they were near enough to see the smoke from their own hearth Michael stopped Listen, he said It's the morning bells The king smiled The snow crisped and evened his parchment lay before them And the bells rang out strong and clear He reached down Took a hold of Michael's small hand as if it were a gift of great price Mark you, said the king How merrily they ring You share I forgot to ask everybody to turn off their cell phones And because of that one of the peanut gallery just tweeted They said these stories are magnificent and beautifully read But how about something that the younger generation is more familiar with? So I thought we'd do something by the famous Theodore Geisel, you know all of that guy, right? Oh, that's right His pet name is Dr. Seuss How about some Dr. Seuss With our own Grinch, Mark Roberts How the Grinch Stole Christmas Every who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot But the Grinch who lived just north of Whoville Did not The Grinch hated Christmas the whole Christmas season Now please don't ask why no one quite knows the reason It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right But could be perhaps that his shoes were too tight But I think that the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small But whatever the reason his heart or his shoes He stood there on Christmas Eve hating the who's Staring down from his cave with a sour Grinchy frown At the warm lighted windows below in their town For he knew every who down in Whoville beneath Was busy now hanging a mistletoe wreath And they're hanging stockings, he snarled with a sneer Tomorrow is Christmas, it's practically here And he growled with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming For tomorrow he knew all the who girls and boys would wake bright and early They'd rush for their toys and then oh the noise Oh the noise noise noise noise that's the one thing he hated the noise noise noise noise Then the who's young and old would sit down to a feast And they'd feast and they'd feast and they'd feast feast feast feast They would feast on who pudding and rare who roast Beast which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least And then they'd do something he liked least of all Every who down in Whoville the tall and the small Would stand close together with Christmas bells ringing They'd stand hand in hand and the who's would start singing They'd sing and they'd sing and they'd sing sing sing sing And the more the Grinch thought of this whole two Christmas sing The more the Grinch thought I must stop this whole thing Why for 53 years now I've put up with it now I must stop this Christmas coming but how? Then he got an idea an awful idea The Grinch got a wonderful awful idea I know just what to do the Grinch laughed in his throat And he made a quick Santa Claus hat and a coat And he chuckled and clucked what a great Grinchie trick With this coat and this hat I look just like Saint Nick All I need is a reindeer the Grinch looked around But since reindeer are scarce there was none to be found Did that stop the old Grinch? No the Grinch simply said if I can't find a reindeer I'll make one instead so he called his dog Max Then he took some red thread and he tied a big horn on the top of his head Then he loaded some bags and some old empty sacks On a ramshackle sleigh and he hitched up old Max Then the Grinch said get up and the sleigh started down Towards the homes where the who's lay a snooze in their town All their windows were dark quiet snow filled the air All the who's were all dreaming sweet dreams without care When he came to the first little house on the square This is stop number one the old Grinchie Claus hissed And he climbed to the roof empty bags in his fist Then he slid down the chimney a rather tight pinch But if Santa could do it then so could the Grinch He got stuck only once for a moment or two Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace Flu where the little who stockings all hung in a row These stockings he grinned are the first things to go Then he slithered in slunk with a smile most unpleasant Around the whole room and he took every present Pop guns and bicycles, rollerskates, drums, checkerboards, tricycles, popcorn and plongs And he stuck them in bags then the Grinch very nimbly stuffed All the bags one by one up the chimney Then he slunk to the icebox he took the who's feast He took the who pudding he took the roast beast He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash Why that Grinch even took their last can of who hash And now then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee And now Grinch the Grinch I will stuff up the tree And then the Grinch grabbed the tree and he started to shove When he heard a small sound like the poo of a dove He turned around fast and he saw a small who Little Cindy Lou who was not more than two The Grinch had been caught by this tiny who daughter Who got out of bed for a cup of cold water She stared at the Grinch and said Santy Claus why why are you taking our Christmas tree why But you know that old Grinch was so smart and so slick He thought up a lie and he thought it up quick Why my sweet little Tox the fake Santy Claus lied There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side So I'm taking it home to my workshop my dear I'll fix it up there then I'll bring it back here And his fin fooled the child and he pat at her head And he got her a drink and sent her to bed And when Cindy Lou who went to her bed with her cup He went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up Then the last thing he took was the log for their fire And he went up the chimney himself the old liar On their walls he left nothing but some hooks and some wire And the one speck of food that he left in the house Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse Then he did the same thing to the other who's houses Leaving crumbs much too small for the other who's mouses It was quarter past dawn all the who's still at bed All the who's still a snooze when he packed up his sled Packed it up with their presents the ribbons the wrappings The tags and the tinsel the trimmings the trappings Three thousand feet up up the side of Mount Crumpet He rode with his load to the tip-top to dump it Pooh-pooh to the who's he was grinchously humming They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming They're just waking up I know just what they'll do Their mouths will hang open a minute or two Then the who's down in Whoville will all cry Booom That's a noise, Grinde Grinch, that I simply must hear So he paused and the Grinch put his hand to his ear And he did hear a sound rising over the snow It started in low and then it started to grow But this sound the sound wasn't sad Why this sounded merry it couldn't be so But it was merry very He stared down at Whoville the Grinch popped his eyes And then he shook what he saw was a shocking surprise Every who down in Whoville the tall and the small Was singing without any presence at all He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming it came Somehow or other it came just the same And the Grinch with his Grinch feet ice cold in the snow Stood puzzling and puzzling how could it be so It came without ribbons it came without tags It came without packages packages boxes or bags And he puzzled three hours till his puzzler was sore Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before Maybe Christmas he thought doesn't come from a store Maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more And what happened then well in Whoville they say That the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so tight He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light And he brought back the toys and the food for the feast And he, he himself, the Grinch carved the roast beast Bought his rocker Figuratively and literally it's intermission So we invite you to stretch your legs and get something to eat And perhaps buy some raffle tickets for the 50-50 Buy some season tickets It is the season of giving and we appreciate it All you give us all year long to keep theater going In Central Vermont, live professional theater And but we will gladly accept your silver and gold So I told that tonight, although now you're all coming back anyway That you can bring in your non-water drinks and snacks tonight So if you want to open up those Cheerios Whether you're those energy bars you have in person That's okay for tonight But don't get used to it Come turn to the screw next year We're going to be hard-balling and I don't know food nor the water So I was told, well not now But during the pieces I need to do my transitions up here Because otherwise I might have a light And I really thought that my outfit shone bright enough to light me And my mother always says how bright I am But um, so Nova, we have a This is my friend Nova And we have a ticket to draw for the raffle Would you like to draw the ticket? Reach in there and mix it all up with your hand And just draw one Okay, can you read that number that's on here? Okay, can you read that number? Turn it this way, that number at the end Oh, it's hard to see Eight, eight, five, nine Three, eight, nine Oh, right here, we don't have to go far Okay, I'm here to show you the box on this afterwards And turn your box Can I give that to you? Oh my goodness, I'm going to go up to 11 o'clock today Okay, welcome back And so now we're having our Probably our greatest reader of the evening This name is G. Richard A. And this is called Why Hummingbird Has a Red Throat And I have a great Hummingbird story But it's way too long I mean about my own personal experience with Hummingbirds So I'm not going to tell Now, Stevie knows I have to put down And now I'm being a storyteller I have to put down my announcer mic So I hope you can still hear me once I put this away We'll see Can you still hear me? Yeah Okay, that's good Why Hummingbird Has a Red Throat At the beginning, when the first people lived On the top of the great canopy of the sky The sky had four holes in it One in the east, another in the south One in the west, and another in the north The sky holes opened and closed rapidly all the time The first people used their magic to come down through the holes And to change themselves into all the creatures, plants, and things of the world So when earth people were created They had oak trees and flat stones on which to grind their acorns They had reeds for houses and baskets They learned from the sun how to shoot arrows like rays They learned to live together like minnows swim and mice nest But Chaka, the marsh wren, was an orphan boy No one liked him The people gave Chaka food Sometimes the people even gave them a crayfish to eat But they always made Chaka feel like an outsider So Chaka stayed under cover of bulrush and sedggrass Only appearing in dawn and dusk to ask again for more Chaka grew more ashamed and the people grew stingier Get your own food, Chaka, they said We work hard, why don't you? It's not our job to feed you, even if you are just a kid Marsh wren's eyes filled with tears of anger The white stripes over his eyebrows quivered If you don't feed me, he yelled, I will shoot out the sun Everyone laughed Yeah, right, Chaka, go right ahead I will, rattled, tattled Marsh wren Duit, said the people, clearly not believing him They turned away Marsh wren did shoot out the sun With an arrow as sharp as his beak As though it had been a bladder filled with light The sun popped and all the light disappeared The whole world became dark No sun, no moon, no stars, no fire Everything was dark The dark seemed to last for years No one could find food because no one could see Everyone was starving All this time, Oye, the coyote man, was thinking about How he could get the sun and the light back again At length he saw something way up in the eastern sky Through that hole that opened and closed As fast as woodpecker wrapped on a dead tree trunk I think I see light, said Oye to himself He squinted his eyes Now there was no doubt Yes, he exalted But a moment later, Oye's tail drooped Now how am I going to go all the way up there to get that light? He asked himself Globally, Oye began to pick his way through a tangle of old blackberry vines That led to his tiny stash of acorn mush Ouch! Ouch! He yelled as the thorn scratched at his nose And his soft footpaths Oye remembered the good old days When this path had been blanketed with wet curling ferns The sun's beautiful light had slanted through the limbs of the gnarled live oaks Now, too, hidden by the dark Oh, rats, muttered Oye Rots and sawts Rots yourself, answered a high-pitched voice Followed by a threep Huh? What? Who's there? Said Coyote Man He heard another threep sound and said Oh, hey, hummingbird How's it going, Couloupe? Coyote Man was glad to have someone to talk to Vreep! Same old thing, Coyote Man Same old thing, you know that, said hummingbird If we just had some light Yeah, Oye agreed automatically Then near his eyes he felt a tiny wind Stirred by Couloupe's wings Suddenly he could picture his cinnamon, purple, and green-colored little friend Wings vibrating like twin halos He remembered Couloupe darting through the air Faster than a fish flits through shallow water Hey, hummingbird, I've got this great idea Couloupe, sputtered Oye Guess what I just saw? Just now Light, Couloupe Light! I saw a light way up high in the sky Way too high for me to get But you, hummingbird You could get it in a second You saw a light, Coyote Man? The little voice was incredulous Where? Up high, hummingbird Really? Go look I know you could bring it back for us The tiny wind of Couloupe's wings stopped for a moment Oye could imagine his friend hesitating Then he heard a reassuring And he knew hummingbird was splitting the black air In a steep climb to the top of the sky It would be crazy not to try, shouted Couloupe But he was already too far away for Coyote Man to hear Up, up, up Rushed Couloupe Until he too could see the dab of light Blinking inside the mouth of the hole in the eastern sky Nearer and nearer he sped Until, heart beating wildly with his own daring He shot through the hole And tore off a piece of the blazing orange light On the other side Get it! yelled Couloupe He tucked the fire under his chin And hung for a moment in the air Luxuriating in the heat But suddenly the sound of giant wings Flapping filled the space around him In a burst of fear Without even looking to see What or who might be following him He raced back toward the hole in the sky Through it he flung the fire And he swooped after it All around him the air turned pink and blue The fire he carried swelled round as a puffball And sent arrows of light down to the earth below People gathered on the shores of the bay Cheering and Coyote Man whooped and howled Even Chaka, the marsh ren, muttered with pleasure He said Couloupe, now glitteringly graceful in the light of a new sun Sped toward his nest His feather shone as they had in the old days Metallic bronze green, jewel-like purple, and rich golden cinnamon But when Couloupe modestly lifted his head To acknowledge the happiness of everyone below The feathers on his throat, against which he had carried the light Were tinged a new brilliant scarlet The color of sun-fire And so Hummingbird is marked to this very day Is this one of my favorite guys, you know And next, oh, you got that music staying for you, sir You're going to do it, Justin So we've got Kim Benz Reading the gift of the Magi I should have left it to him anyway One dollar and eighty-seven cents That was all She had put her aside one cent and then another and then another And her careful buying of meat and other food Della counted it three times, one dollar and eighty-seven cents And next day would be Christmas It was nothing to do but fall on the bed and cry, so Della did While the lady of the home is slowly growing quieter We can look at the home Furnished rooms at a cost of eight dollars a week There's a little more to say about it In the hall below was a letter box too small to hold the letter There was an electric bell that could not make a sound Also, there was a name beside the door Mr. James Dillingham Young When the name was placed there, Mr. James Dillingham Young Was being paid thirty dollars a week Now, when he was being paid only twenty dollars a week The name seemed too long and important It should perhaps have been Mr. James Dillingham Young But when Mr. James Dillingham Young entered the furnished rooms His name became very short indeed Mrs. James Dillingham Young Put her arms warmly about him and called him Jim You've already met her, she is Della Della finished her crying and cleaned the markslet from her face She stood by the window and looked out with no interest Tomorrow would be Christmas Day And she had only a dollar and eighty seven cents With which to buy Jim a gift She had put aside as much as she could for months With this result Twenty dollars a week is not much Everything had cost more than she had expected It always happened like that Only one dollar and eighty seven cents to buy a gift for Jim Her Jim She had had many happy hours planning something nice for him Something nearly good enough Something almost worth the honor of belonging to Jim There was a looking glass between the window and the room Perhaps you have seen the kind of looking glass That is placed in an eight dollar furnished rooms It was very narrow The person could see only a little of himself at a time However, if he was very thin and moved very quickly He might be able to get a good view of himself Della being quite thin had mastered this art Suddenly she turned from the window and stood before the glass Her eyes were shining brightly but her face had lost its color Quickly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its complete length The James and Dellingham Youngs were very proud of two things which they owned One thing was Jim's gold watch It had once belonged to his father and long ago it had belonged to his father His father The other thing was Della's hair If a queen had lived in the rooms near theirs Della would have washed and dried her hair Where the queen could see it Della knew her hair was more beautiful than any queen's jewels and gifts If a king had lived in the same house with all his riches Jim would have looked at his watch every time they met Jim knew that no king had anything so valuable So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her Shining like a falling stream of brown water It reached below her knee It almost made itself into a dress for her And then she put it up on her head again nervously and quickly Once she stopped for a moment and stood still while a tear or two ran down her face She put on her old brown coat She put on her old brown hat With the bright light still in her eyes She moved quickly out the door and down to the street Where she stopped the sign said Mrs. Sophrony Hair articles of all kinds Up to the second floor Della ran and stopped to get her breath Mrs. Sophrony large two-white cold eyed looked at her Will you buy my hair asked Della I buy hair said Mrs. Sophrony Take your hat off and let me look at it Down fell the brown waterfall $20 said Mrs. Sophrony lifting the hair to feel its weight Give it to me quick said Della Oh and the next two hours seemed to fly She was going from one shop to another to find a gift for Jim She found it at last It surely had been made for Jim and no one else There was no other like it in any of the shops And she had looked in every shop in the city It was a gold watch chain Very simply made Its value was in its rich and pure material Because it was so plain and simple You knew that it was very valuable All good things are like this It was good enough for the watch As soon as she saw it she knew that Jim must have it It was like him quietness and value Jim and the chain both had quietness and value She had paid $21 for it And she hurried home with the chain And 87 cents With that chain on his watch Jim could look at his watch and learn the time anywhere he might be Though the watch was so fine It had never had a fine chain He sometimes took it out and looked at it Only when no one could see him do it When Della arrived home Her mind quieted a little She began to think more reasonably She started to try to cover the sad marks of what she had done Love and large hearted giving When added together can leave deep marks It is never easy to cover those marks Dear friends Never easy Within 40 minutes her head looked a little better With her short hair She looked wonderfully like a schoolboy She stood and she stood at the looking glass for a long time If Jim doesn't kill me She said to herself Before he looks at me a second time He'll say I look like a girl who sings and dances for money But what can I do? What can I do with a dollar and 87 cents? At seven Jim's dinner was ready for him Jim was never late Della held the watch chain in her hand And sat near the door where he always entered And she heard his step in the hall And her face lost color for a moment She often said little prayers quietly About simple everyday things And now she said please God May I think I'm still pretty The door opened and Jim stepped in He looked very thin And he was not smiling Poor fellow He was only 22 and with a family to take care of He needed a new coat and he had nothing to cover his cold hands Jim stopped inside the door He was as quiet as a hunting dog And when it is near a bird His eyes looked strangely at Della And there was an expression in them That she could not understand It filled her with fear It was not anger, no surprise Nor anything she had been ready for He simply looked at her With that strange expression on his face Della went to him Are you here? She cried Don't look at me like that I had my hair cut off And sold it I couldn't live through Christmas Without giving you a gift My hair will grow again You won't care, will you? My hair grows very fast It's Christmas Jim Let's be happy You don't know what a nice What a beautiful nice gift I got for you You've cut off your hair Asked Jim slowly He seemed to labor to understand What had happened He seemed not to feel sure he knew Cut it off and sold it, said Della Don't you like me now? I'm me, Jim I'm the same without my hair Jim looked around the room You say your hair is gone, he said You don't have to look for it, said Della It's sold, I tell you Sold and gone too It's the night before Christmas Boy, be good to me Because I sold it for you And maybe the hairs in my head Could be counted, she said But no one could ever count my love for you Shall we eat dinner, Jim? Jim put his arms around his Della For ten seconds Let us look in another direction Eight dollars a week Or a million dollars a year How different are they? Someone may give you an answer But it will be wrong The magi brought valuable gifts But that was not among them My meaning will be explained soon From inside the coat Jim took something tied in paper He threw it upon the table I wanted to understand Della He said nothing like a haircut Could ever make me love you any less But if you'll open that You may know what I felt when I came in White fingers pulled off the paper And then a cry of joy And then a change to tears For there lay the combs The combs that Della had seen in her shop window And loved for a long time Beautiful combs with jewels Perfect for her beautiful hair She had known they cost too much For her to buy them She had looked at them Without the least hope of owning them And now they were hers But her hair was gone But she held them to her heart And at last was able to look up and say Oh, my hair grows so fast, Jim And then she jumped up and cried Oh, oh, Jim had not yet seen his beautiful gift She held it out to him in her open hand The gold seemed to shine softly As if with her own warm and loving spirit Isn't it perfect, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it You'll have to look at your watch A hundred times a day and I don't Give me your watch I want you to see how they look together Jim sat down and smiled In Della City Let's put our Christmas gifts away Keep them for a while They're too nice to use now I sold the watch to get the money To buy the combs Now I think we should have our dinner The Magi, as you know, were wise men Wonderfully, wise men Who brought gifts to the newborn Christ child They went first to give Christmas gifts Being wise, their gifts were doubtless wise ones And here I have told you the story of two children Who were not wise Each sold the most valuable thing he owned In order to buy a gift for the other But let me speak a last word to the wise of these days Of all who give gifts, these two Were the most wise Of all who give and receive gifts Such as they are the most wise Everywhere, they are the wise ones They are the Magi Dvor Shikin, as we call it And this is, they've all been lovely stories And this is perhaps the only one, I think, tonight That was written anywhere close to now And written by an extant living writer A local writer who was with us tonight So I'll let Kim come up and introduce it Kim Warren, everybody This story is written by Dvor Zikin The first time I heard it I was really enamored of it And when they asked us to read I said, oh, I have a story Can I read it? And people agree It happened every year And here it was again That hated and much dreaded Time of year Christmas And Miriam was mad again She was the only one in her class Who didn't celebrate Christmas The only one who didn't have A beautiful Christmas tree The only one who wouldn't be Hanging a stocking on Christmas Eve It didn't matter that her family Celebrated Hanukkah Miriam knew that Hanukkah Was only a very minor festival The most minor and unimportant In the whole Jewish year As a matter of fact The truth was, as Miriam was fond of saying In a manner far more advanced Than her years The truth was that the only reason Anyone noticed that Hanukkah Even existed was because it just Happened to occur around Christmas time And it didn't matter that Miriam's family Celebrated other more important holidays Like Passover or Rosh Hashanah Because those came at funny times of the year When no one else was paying much attention To holidays and they largely passed Unnoticed outside of her small family And so when Miriam got in this mood She started to dislike anything Jewish at all Including her own name, Miriam It just sort of sat there It fell off your tongue, plop And just kind of lay there A thick, heavy name Not like her best friend, Melissa Whose name just rolled off your tongue Like a song Not like her friend, Ellie A light, soft name That just floated from your mouth And into the air like a cloud No, she was stuck with Miriam Flat, dull, black And then there was her hair It was dark and thick and frizz Just about everywhere Like a cartoon character Who put a finger and electric out with it And it was sweet It wasn't sleek and shiny Like Melissa's or blonde And bouncy like Ellie's It was a lump, a mess I hate Hanukkah She cried out the first night As they were playing dreidel And watching the candles burn down Hanukkah is so boring She had cried out the second night Fingering the watercolor She had begged for all month But which now seems so incredibly boring I wish I could have a tree She complained the third night Why do we have to be Jewish? She finally cried in frustration On the fourth night Picking at her crispy latkes And sweet smooth applesauce On the fifth night Miriam sulked alone upstairs In her room And on the sixth night She went over to Melissa's house And helped her family decorate their tree On the seventh night She sat in the dark At the top of the stairs And watched the burning Hanukkah candles Quietly and alone Where no one else could see her And then she announced I don't want to go to school For the rest of the week Oh, her mother asked Isn't this the last week Before vacation? Isn't your class Having a big holiday party on Friday? It's not really a holiday party You know that Hanukkah would be over by then Anyhow, Miriam wind The teacher just calls it that On my account It's really a Christmas party Everyone knows that And I don't want to go to any Stupid Christmas party But I thought you liked Christmas things Her father asked Miriam just sulked Okay, her mother said If you don't want to go to school tomorrow You don't have to I could use a break myself I can work at home And spend some time with you too Miriam was suddenly not at all sure She really wanted to miss All the festivities after all Oh, it was all so confusing She went to bed in a bad mood Hugging her teddy bear And crying herself to sleep The next day Miriam got to sleep in late She and her mother shared a weekend Like breakfast of cinnamon French toast Made with challah, of course Warm maple syrup and hot mint tea After breakfast, Miriam's mother Pulled out a big tattered photo album I was a lot like you when I was your age Her mother began I also hated being the only Jewish girl in my class And I wished every year for a Christmas tree So why don't you have one? Her mother opened a photo album And pointed to a large picture Of a smiling woman With frizzy dark hair Just like Miriam's This is why My grandmother's Sadie My mother's mother Your great-grandmother I never knew her She died in the Holocaust before I was born Just then the phone rang And Miriam's mother went to the kitchen to answer it When she came back She looked pale and scared And she was talking very fast Ruthie has fallen in the gym They're sending her to the hospital I'll call your father and go right away I called Miss Callahan And she'll come right over And stay with you We'll call you from the hospital Be a good girl now Later, after her parents had phoned from the hospital To say Ruthie was getting stitches And while Miss Callahan was cleaning up from lunch Miriam wandered into the living room And picked up that old photo album She looked at all those faces from the past All those faces that looked just like her All those faces that were long gone And she remembered her mother's story About how her mother, Miriam's grandmother Had been smuggled out of Poland to safety She stared at the picture of great-grandmother Sadie That face that looked so much like her own And then, not even knowing why Miriam whispered to the photograph I wish I could have known you great-grandma Sadie I wish I could have known you too, bubola A soft voice with a thick Polish accent Whispered back Miriam looked up startled Known was there But she had heard a voice, hadn't she So why don't we get to know each other now, she said And Miriam jumped This time she could see a shape across the room in the dark Shattery corner When it started to move, Miriam's heart was pounding so hard That it felt like it would burst right out of her chest She was just about to call for Miss Callahan When the shape reached the light And she immediately recognized it as no other Than her great-grandmother Sadie How did you get there, Miriam stammered You called for me, great-grandmother Sadie smiled As she stroked Miriam's hair Such a beautiful child, she whispered Miriam looked down at the photograph on her lap Then out with the gentle woman sitting next to her Yes, it was her Impossible as it was Great-grandmother Sadie was sitting here right next to her When Miriam looked at Sadie's frizzy hair Gently framing her soft face She noticed that the way it caught the light It looked like a halo surrounding her head Suddenly, frizzy hair looked beautiful So, my little one, you think that Hanukkah is boring It's just that, well, all my friends on Christmas trees All decorated and lit up And a big feast and special friends and songs And so many presents Then I was a child, great-grandmother Sadie began Hanukkah was such a beautiful town of year The whole house was lit up with candlelight Because there were eight of us And we each had our own menorah to light We sang happy, silly songs and played silly dreidel games And more seriously, we would also remember That we were celebrating our survival as a people Papa would give us each our gold coins And I always bought sweets with mine My mouth with water With the smells of crisp latkes sizzling And hot oil and I can hardly wait to eat Somehow, the way great-grandmother Sadie described it It didn't sound so boring at all In fact, it sounded quite exciting So, we may not have anything to compare to Christmas But who has anything to compare to our feast at Passover Our celebration of freedom With our songs and our stories that we tell And we tell every year until we know them by heart And then we tell them again And you, my little one It is extra special for you because We tell the story of Miriam Who, by bravely and proudly saving her brother Moses Saved all the Jews And who has anything to compare to the sweetness Of the light challah bread And apples dipped in honey for Rosh Hashanah For the sweetness of the new year And no one has anything to compare to Sukkot Celebrating the harvest and building a Sukkah Miriam thought about her own Sukkah last fall The three-walled huts in the backyard With a corn-stop roof In which they ate all their meals for a week And where Miriam even slept for three whole nights Watching the stars between the open spaces And the thatched roof as she drifted off to sleep Yes, their Sukkah was really quite special All her friends had been quite envious in fact And now, listening to great-grandmother Sadie Describe each of the ceremonies and holidays With joy and enthusiasm Miriam realized how beautiful and unique each one really was It's hard to be different And you can feel very lonely, Sadie whispered And you are wanting presents, aren't you? Well, let me show you your greatest gift of all Suddenly in front of them stood a long line of women Women who looked like Miriam and Sadie Their arms interlocked like a long chain Stretching as far as she could see across the room Out the door and down the street Great-grandmother Sadie took the arm of the woman Near as them and clasped her other arm around Miriam's So that she too was now a part of that long fantastic chain Dozens of grandmothers, hundreds of grandmothers And Miriam somehow knew that they were all her grandmothers Great-great-grandmothers Great-great-great-grandmothers Great-great-great-great-great-grandmothers And each one held her lighted menorah And sang the Hanukkah prayer And the room was flooded with dazzling candlelight Suddenly someone tried to pull them apart To break the chain But the grandmothers held tight More people came and tried to destroy this chain Which led from the beginning of all time Right here to where Miriam stood in her living room But the grandmothers held tight Miriam shuddered at the man with a swastika on his arm As he came towards great-grandmother Sadie And she held on tightly to her The chain of grandmothers bent and twisted here and there But nowhere did it break her snap And Miriam realized that if it had been broken anywhere This chain of grandmothers that led to her That she herself could not be here today And that the gift her great-grandmother Sadie Was showing her was indeed the greatest gift of all It was the gift of life And as soon as Miriam realized this It all disappeared And then great-grandmother Sadie was there alone with her Sadie smiled broadly and nodded her head in approval And then, without another word, she too disappeared It was late when Miriam's mother and father finally got home with Ruthie Who proudly showed off her bandage above her right eye Feeling very important as she bragged Six stitches! A half more inch and I would have lost my eye! The doctor said They ate a quick light supper And then her father said, Time for beg-you-to Halfway up the stairs, Miriam turned and ran back down We didn't like the menorah tonight, she cried out Miriam's parents looked at each other with surprise You're absolutely right, her father said And he smiled as he began to set up the candles Some day, Miriam would tell them about great-grandmother Sadie's visit Some day, she would tell them how much she suddenly loved All her frizzy curls that were just like great-grandmother Sadie's Some day, she would tell them how glad she was To have such a strong, brave name as Miriam Some day, she would tell them of her unspoken promise to great-grandmother Sadie To try her very best, in whatever way she could To always keep the chain unbroken For now, it was her own special secret And her own special gift And as she watched the candles burn down She was sure she could feel great-grandmother Sadie Standing there right beside her, holding her hand And Miriam knew in her heart That she would always carry great-grandmother Sadie's Precious gifts with her The gift of love The gift of life The gift of light Thank you, Miriam And does anyone else notice that this looks a little bit like a face With the glowing eyes So try not to let that distract you during our last piece And before we start that, I just want to say Live Theatre is an energy exchange Not just with the performers on stage with each other But with the audience I always tell people that working with Lost Nation Is a big family And you are all part of the family Thank you, family, for being here all year to support us And we know we'll see you next year So if you've been here for years and years Almost as many years as Kim and Kathleen have been here But not quite that long And maybe something in the beginning And so now we've got Mike here to lead us the company And we'd like you to join in on chorus Where we're thinking about longer days coming And this is, here comes the sun Yes And if you know it, please join in with us