Written by Diri Onisogenime Orugbani
WOODENSHOE AND LITTLE GRETCHEN
Once upon a time, far over the huge ocean, in a country called Germany, a small log cottage could be seen on the edge of a great forest, whose fir-trees reached for miles and miles to the north. This small cottage was composed of hefty hewn timbers and had only one room. This chamber was entered through a rough pine door, and a small square window let in light. An old-fashioned stone chimney was built at the back of the home, from which a thin, blue smoke curled in the winter, indicating that there was not much fire within.
Even though the house was small, it was adequate for the two individuals that lived there. Today I'd like to tell you a story about these two people. One was an old, gray-haired woman, so old that the tiny children of the village, over half a mile away, wondered whether she had been born with the vast mountains and the great fir-trees that stood like giants behind her modest cottage.
Her face was wrinkled all over with deep lines that, if the children could have read correctly, would have told them of many years of cheerful, happy self-sacrifice, loving, anxious watching beside sick-beds, quiet endurance of pain, many a day of hunger and cold, and a thousand deeds of unselfish love for others; but, of course, they couldn't read this strange handwriting. They simply knew she was elderly and wrinkled, and that she walked stooping. None of them seemed to be afraid of her since her smile was usually bright and she had a nice word for everyone of them if they happened to see her on her walk to and from the hamlet. A small child lived with this old, old woman. She was so bright and happy that travelers passing by the lonely small house on the edge of the forest often compared her to a sunbeam. Granny Goodyear and Little Gretchen were their names in the village.
Winter had arrived, and the frost had snapped off many of the smaller branches of the forest's pine trees. Gretchen and her grandmother got awake before the sun each morning. Gretchen would dash to the little closet after their basic breakfast of oatmeal and retrieve Granny's ancient woollen shawl, which seemed almost as old as
Granny herself. Gretchen always claimed the right to drape the shawl over her Granny's head, even if it meant climbing upon the wooden bench. She kissed Granny goodbye after gently tucking it under her chin, and Granny set out for her morning's work in the forest. This labor was little more than gathering the twigs and branches that had been tossed on the ground by the fall winds and winter frosts.
Granny gently gathered these into a huge bundle and knotted it together with a thick linen band. She then hoisted the package onto her shoulder and went off to the village with it. She sold the fagots for kindling wood to the villagers here. Sometimes she only got a few pence a day, sometimes a dozen or more, but little Gretchen and she made do; they had a home, and the forest graciously supplied the wood for the fire that kept them warm in the winter months.
Granny had a small garden at the back of the hut where she produced a few potatoes, turnips, and onions with the help of Gretchen. She carefully tucked these away for the winter. The pennies earned by selling the forest twigs were added to this meager stock, along with the oatmeal for Gretchen and a little black coffee for Granny. They had never considered eating meat. It was too expensive. Granny and Gretchen were still overjoyed since they adored each other.Gretchen was sometimes left alone in the hut all day since Granny needed to perform some job in the village after selling her bundle of sticks and twigs.
During these long days, Gretchen had learned to sing the song that the wind sang to the pine branches. She learnt the chirp and twitter of the birds in the summer, till her voice could nearly be mistaken for a bird's sound; she learned to dance like the swaying shadows, and even to chat to the stars that shined through the little square window when Granny came home too late or too exhausted to communicate.
Gretchen would sometimes accompany her Granny when the weather was fine or she had an extra bundle of freshly made socks to carry to the village. Gretchen's eyes were drawn to the beautiful Christmas trees in the display of the local store on one of these trips to town only a week before Christmas. She believed she'd never get tired of looking at the knit dolls, fuzzy lambs, and bizarre small wooden stores with painted men and women in them, among other wonderful things. She had never possessed a toy in her entire life, so items that you and I would dismiss appeared to her to be rather lovely.
Because Granny dear was exhausted, she brought her own small wooden stool and placed it by Granny's feet and sat down, folding her hands on her lap, after their lunch of baked potatoes was done and little Gretchen had cleaned away the dishes and swept up the hearth. Granny understood this indicated she wanted to talk about something, so she smiled and put down the enormous Bible she had been reading and picked up her knitting, as if to say: "Well, lovely Gretchen, Granny is ready to listen." "Granny," Gretchen began slowly, "isn't it almost Christmas?" "Yes, dearie," Granny continued, "just five more days now," and then she sighed, but Gretchen was too thrilled to notice Granny's sigh. "What do you think I'll get for Christmas, Granny?" she asked, looking up hopefully into Granny's face. ""Oh, kid, child," Granny cried, shaking her head, "you won't have Christmas this year." We're not wealthy enough for it." ""But, Granny," Gretchen interjected, "consider all the lovely toys we saw in the village today." Santa Claus has surely sent plenty for every tiny child." "Ah, dearie," Granny remarked, "those gifts are for those who can afford them, and we don't have any money to spend on Christmas toys." "Well, Granny," Gretchen suggested, "maybe some of the tiny children who live in the huge home on the hill at the other end of the hamlet will be willing to share some of their toys with me." They will be overjoyed to donate some to a little girl who does not have any. ""Lovely kid, dear child," Granny whispered, bending forward and stroking the tiny girl's silky, shining hair, "your heart is full of love." You'd love to bring Christmas to every youngster, but their minds are so focused on what they're going to get that they forget about everyone else." After that, she sighed and shook her head. ""Well, Granny," Gretchen replied, her bright, happy tone of voice fading slightly, "maybe the dear Santa Claus will show some of the village children how to make presents that do not cost money, and some of them may surprise me with a present on Christmas morning." "And, Granny, dear," she said, rising from her low stool, "couldn't I gather some of the pine branches and take them to the old sick man who lives in the house near the mill, so he can enjoy the beautiful smell of our pine forest in his room all Christmas day?"" "Yes, dearie," said Granny, "you may do what you can to make the Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect any present yourself." ""But, Granny," Gretchen smiled, "you forget all about the shining Christmas angels who came down to earth and sang their wonderful song the night the beautiful Christ-Child was born!" They are so kind and caring that they will not abandon any small child. I'll beg my dear stars to inform them about us tonight. "You know," she added, relieved, "the stars are so high that they must know the angels fairly well, since they come and leave with messages from the loving God.""
Granny groaned and murmured, "Poor child, poor youngster!" Gretchen, on the other hand, wrapped her arm around Granny's neck and kissed her passionately, saying, "Oh, Granny, Granny, you don't talk to the stars frequently enough, otherwise you wouldn't be sad at Christmas time." Then she whirled her small skirts around the room to show Granny The days passed, and the morning of Christmas Eve arrived. Gretchen headed out to the forest, singing a birdlike melody, almost as happy and free as the birds themselves, after cleaning up the little room, as Granny had taught her to be a diligent little housewife. She had been working hard that day, planning a surprise for Granny. But first, she selected the most magnificent fir branches she could find to carry the next morning to the old sick man who lived near the mill. The day had flown by for the cheerful little girl. When Granny returned home that night, she saw the entryway frame covered in green pine branches, how the wind had made the snow dance that day. Granny forgot her sorrows and worries as she laughed with Gretchen over her new snow-dance.
"It's to welcome you, Granny! It's to welcome you!" cried Gretchen; "our old dear home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you see, the branches of evergreen make it look as if it were smiling all over, and it is trying to say, 'A happy Christmas' to you, Granny As they opened the door and entered together, Granny chuckled and kissed the little girl. Granny was in for another surprise. The four posts of the wooden bed, which stood in one corner of the room, had been trimmed with smaller and more flexible pine-tree branches by the busy young fingers. A small bouquet of red mountain-ash berries stood on each side of the fireplace, and these, along with the bed's trimmed posts, gave the plain old room a festival feel. Gretchen smiled and clapped her hands and danced around till the house seemed to be filled with song to poor, tired Granny, whose heart had been sorrowful as she headed toward their home that night, remembering the disappointment.
After supper was over little Gretchen drew her stool up to Granny's side, and laying her soft, little hands on Granny's knee, asked to be told once again the story of the coming of the Christ-Child; how the night that he was born the beautiful angels had sung their wonderful song, and how the whole sky had become bright with a strange and glorious light, never seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had heard the story many, many times before, but she never grew tired of it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again, the happy little child wanted to hear it once more.
Granny finished telling it, and the two remained quiet and silent for a few moments, thinking it over, before Granny rose and announced it was time for them to go to bed. She gingerly removed her heavy wooden shoes, as is customary in that country, and set them beside the hearth. Gretchen gave them a contemplative look before saying, "Granny, don't you suppose somebody in all this huge globe will think of us tonight?" "No, Gretchen," Granny replied, "I don't think anyone will." "Well, then, Granny," said Gretchen, "the Christmas angels will, I know; so I am going to take one of your wooden shoes, and put it on the windowsill outside, so that they may see it as they pass by. I am sure the stars will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is." "Ah, you foolish, foolish child," said Granny, "you are only getting ready for a disappointment To-morrow morning there will be nothing whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now."But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her head and cried out: "Ah, Granny, you don't talk enough to the stars." With this she seized the shoe, and, opening the door, hurried out to place it on the windowsill. It was very dark without, and something soft and cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face. Gretchen knew by this that it was snowing, and she looked up to the sky, anxious to see if the stars were in sight, but a strong wind was tumbling the dark, heavy snow-clouds about and had shut away all else. "Never mind," said Gretchen softly to herself, "the stars are up there, even if I can't see them, and the Christmas angels do not mindsnowstorms." Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering something to her which she could not understand, and then it made a sudden rush up to the snow-clouds and parted them, so that the deep, mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down out of the midst of it was Gretchen's favourite star. "Ah, little star, little star!" said the child, laughing aloud, "I knew you were there, though I couldn't see you. Will you whisper to the Christmas angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants so very much to have a Christmas gift to-morrow morning, if they have one to spare, and that she has put one of Granny's shoes upon the windowsill ready for it?"
A moment more and the little girl, standing on tiptoe, had reached the windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the house beside Granny and the warm fire. The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little Gretchen knelt to pray to the Heavenly Father, she thanked him for having sent the Christ-Child into the world to teach all mankind how to be loving and unselfish, and in a few moments she was quietly sleeping, dreaming of the Christmas angels.
The next morning, very early, even before the sun was up, littleGretchen was awakened by the sound of sweet music coming from the village. She listened for a moment and then she knew that the choir-boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of the village street. She sprang up out of bed and began to dress herself as quickly as possible, singing as she dressed. While Granny was slowly putting on her clothes, little Gretchen, having finished dressing herself, unfastened the door and hurried out to see what the Christmas angels had left in the old wooden shoe.
The white snow covered everything--trees, stumps, roads, and pastures--until the whole world looked like fairyland. Gretchen climbed up on a large stone which was beneath the window and carefully lifted down the wooden shoe. The snow tumbled off of it in a shower over the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that; she ran hurriedly backinto the house, putting her hand into the toe of the shoe as she ran. "Oh, Granny! Oh, Granny!" she exclaimed, "you didn't believe the Christmas angels would think about us, but see, they have, they have! Here is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe! Oh, isn't he beautiful?" Granny came forward and looked at what the child was holding lovingly in her hand. There she saw a tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of the night before, and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the old wooden shoe. She gently took the little bird out of Gretchen's hands, and skilfullybound his broken wing to his side, so that he need not hurt himself by trying to fly with it. Then she showed Gretchen how to make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire, and when their breakfast was ready she let Gretchen feed the little bird with a few moist crumbs.
Later in the day Gretchen carried the fresh, green boughs to the old sick man by the mill, and on her way home stopped to see and enjoy the Christmas toys of some other children whom she knew, never once wishing that they were hers. When she reached home she found that the little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however, he opened his eyes and stretched his head up, saying just as plain as a bird could say, "Now, my new friends, I want you to give me something more to eat." Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then, holding him in her lap, she softly and gently stroked his gray feathers until the little creature seemed to lose all fear of her. That evening Granny taught her a Christmas hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then Gretchen made up a funny little story to tell to the birdie. He winked his eyes and turned his head from side to side in such a droll fashion that Gretchen laughed until the tears came.
Gretchen wrapped her arms tenderly around Granny's neck as they prepared for bed that night and whispered: "What a lovely Christmas we've had today, Granny! Is there anything more beautiful in the world than Christmas?" "No, darling, no," Granny responded, "not to such loving hearts as yours."
© 2022 by Diri Onisogenime Orugbani