On Christmas Eve 1852, a runaway slave slips unnoticed through a meadow and happens upon a small, rustic cabin in the woods, occupied by a boisterous old woman named Beatrice. As a winter storm blows in and the sheriff comes inquiring, all that stands between the frightened girl and the arm of the law is a stack of biscuits and a whole lot of love.
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On a night when the clouds cover the stars like an impenetrable mountain cliff, I wait for a sign. A small tinge up my spine. A desperate plea for the ancient ways to speak once again. I wait for the light, hoping it will come, hoping it will be enough. .
The stars, spread brightly out like colored snowflakes flickering across the onyx sky, reflect a distant constellation, and begin to re-enter the atmosphere, piercing through the fractured clouds, giving faint and distant light to the voidless black, the empty sea, the sandless desert, the vacant abyss that is deep within me. The light, hushed and dimmed by a millennium of travel, is all I have. Is all I ever had.
I wait for the reflection to reach me, hoping one refracted beam from a star long ago still exists, the same ancient light that awakened the shepherd’s eyes one cool and lonely night. Can the light that ushered in a new millennium, awaken a new epoch within me. If so, it might be enough for my heart to go on.
In the midst of tears, in the solitude of our inner being, we yearn to be on that impoverished hill, to understand the magnitude of that sight, a heavenly light illuminating a darkened heart, a heavenly chorus rising to a crescendo of glory.
Will I choose to believe its truth, not blindly though because I know what the light can do for one’s soul. And though the unbearable pain releases not its grip, I have a question to answer. Does the light still exist for me?
Does the same sky, which God ripped open that night with his right hand, planting angelic heralds of peace on the clouds to rustle awake the shepherds, still exist for me? Can he reach into my clouded heart and announce the truth like a heavenly chorus? If it is so, all suffering and cause of angst still present throughout the world will be no match for the blessed announcement: “A Child is born.”
PERSON: This child is born.
I can’t tell. I don’t think it is, but this article is so funny that I think it must be satire. And if it isn’t, it should be.
If you don’t want to click on the list, here’s the short version.
A small girl asked a mall Santa who was on the naughty list this year. The witty Santa replied “Hillary Clinton” and laughed.
Santa was replaced because of, I guess, his insensitivity, and was sent to human resources so he could get counseling.
This is too good to be true. First, I think this Santa is brilliant and deserves a raise, unless it’s satire, then the writer of the article needs a raise.
Second, it just confirms to this writer that I will not, anytime soon, run out of things to write about. Our society is full of remarkable silly stories which are the equivalent of the Holy Spirit bringing down writing inspiration from God, aka John Milton.
This is tremendous. Sad, yes. But tremendous without a doubt. I can’t wait to use this in one of my plays or stories. Santa sent to counseling. It’s too good to be true.
Thank you, society, for your never-ending inspiration. Where there is idiocy, there is a great story.
THE STORY
On Christmas Eve 1852, a runaway slave slips unnoticed through a meadow and happens upon a small, rustic cabin in the woods, occupied by a boisterous old woman named Beatrice. As a winter storm blows in and the sheriff comes inquiring, all that stands between the frightened girl and the arm of the law is a stack of biscuits and a whole lot of love.
THE PRICE
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Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy this poignant, heart-warming tale.
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Tales of Wonder 2 is just 8 days away from its world premiere at the Penang Performing Arts Centre. I’m so excited for this show, and I’m so proud of these amazing young actors. Here’s a snippet of three of the original sketches I’ve written for the show.
Manger Talk is an adorable and poignant look at the morning after the birth of Jesus through the eyes of the animals. It’s funny. And it’s meaningful. And the hats are awesome.
I co-wrote this one with Lilian Li. It’s a funny sketch about 2 elves trying to help a terrible mall santa, but then there’s a heart-wrenching twist. I love to punch the audience in the stomach.
In this sketch, a girl gets lost in the snow and she’s visited by three angels to try to keep her awake as her father looks for her.
More to come. If you’re in Penang, don’t miss it!
Merry Christmas everyone!
I leave you with my take on the historical event which happened in 1914. The British and German soldiers, on Christmas Eve, set aside their differences and shared some holiday cheer in the midst of a brutal world war. Here’s a performance by the RLT Players of my script called, “Christmas in the Trenches, 1914.” I hope you enjoy.
Leave it to us humans (and book readers) to always focus on the negative, because that’s what we do when we think about Charles Dickens’ famous character Ebeneezer Scrooge.
Who is Scrooge? The meanest, rudest, stingiest, Christmas hum-bug that ever lived. Every time we reference someone who’s not demonstrating the spirit of the holiday, we call them a Scrooge. We whisper a few hum-bugs in their direction and wish them a night filled with visits from strange spirits.
By doing this, we are completely missing the point of Dickens’ story. It’s a story of restitution – redemption – second chances. For while Dickens’ started his story by using Scrooge to describe the very opposite of the reason for the season, so Dickens’ also ends the story by giving us an example of the person who best demonstrated the magic and wonderment of the season. And by golly, that too was Scrooge.
Why do we remember him for his ill-manners and not for his kindness? Why do we remember Scrooge for his stinginess and not for his generosity?
Why Scrooge is really the perfect Christmas role model! He ends up blessing the person whom he used the most. (Cratchet) He rebuilds a bridge back to his broken family. How difficult is that? He was willing to admit his wrongness and humble himself back into the grace of his kin. It takes tremendous character to do something like that. He also becomes the benefactor of a young, crippled boy. (Tiny Tim) He gives us all an example of what Christmas truly is all about — showing love to others as is demonstrated by the Christmas baby in the manger.
We need more Scrooges in this world. We need people who are willing to understand their faults, right their wrongs, and give to those who need it most.
May we all find our inner Scrooge this Christmas!
Have a merry one!
