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Saturday, December 3, 2016

The Elves and the Shoemaker

There was once a shoemaker, who worked very hard and was very honest: but still he could not earn enough to live upon; and at last all he had in the world was gone, save just leather enough to make one pair of shoes.
Then he cut his leather out, all ready to make up the next day, meaning to rise early in the morning to his work. His conscience was clear and his heart light amidst all his troubles; so he went peaceably to bed, left all his cares to Heaven, and soon fell asleep. In the morning after he had said his prayers, he sat himself down to his work; when, to his great wonder, there stood the shoes all ready made, upon the table. The good man knew not what to say or think at such an odd thing happening. He looked at the workmanship; there was not one false stitch in the whole job; all was so neat and true, that it was quite a masterpiece.
The same day a customer came in, and the shoes suited him so well that he willingly paid a price higher than usual for them; and the poor shoemaker, with the money, bought leather enough to make two pairs more. In the evening he cut out the work, and went to bed early, that he might get 

The Elves and the Shoemaker 

By 

The Brothers Grimm

There was once a shoemaker, who worked very hard and was very honest: but still he could not earn enough to live upon; and at last all he had in the world was gone, save just leather enough to make one pair of shoes.
Then he cut his leather out, all ready to make up the next day, meaning to rise early in the morning to his work. His conscience was clear and his heart light amidst all his troubles; so he went peaceably to bed, left all his cares to Heaven, and soon fell asleep. In the morning after he had said his prayers, he sat himself down to his work; when, to his great wonder, there stood the shoes all ready made, upon the table. The good man knew not what to say or think at such an odd thing happening. He looked at the workmanship; there was not one false stitch in the whole job; all was so neat and true, that it was quite a masterpiece.
 The same day a customer came in, and the shoes suited him so well that he willingly paid a price higher than usual for them; and the poor shoemaker, with the money, bought leather enough to make two pairs more. In the evening he cut out the work, and went to bed early, that he might get up and begin betimes next day; but he was saved all the trouble, for when he got up in the morning the work was done ready to his hand. Soon in came buyers, who paid him handsomely for his goods, so that he bought leather enough for four pair more. He cut out the work again overnight and found it done in the morning, as before; and so it went on for some time: what was got ready in the evening was always done by daybreak, and the good man soon became thriving and well off again.
One evening, about Christmas-time, as he and his wife were sitting over the fire chatting together, he said to her, ’I should like to sit up and watch tonight, that we may see who it is that comes and does my work for me.’ The wife liked the thought; so they left a light burning, and hid themselves in a corner of the room, behind a curtain that was hung up there, and watched what would happen.
As soon as it was midnight, there came in two little naked dwarfs; and they sat themselves upon the shoemaker’s bench, took up all the work that was cut out, and began to ply with their little fingers, stitching and rapping and tapping away at such a rate, that the shoemaker was all wonder, and could not take his eyes off them. And on they went, till the job was quite done, and the shoes stood ready for use upon the table. This was long before daybreak; and then they bustled away as quick as lightning.
The next day the wife said to the shoemaker. ’These little wights have made us rich, and we ought to be thankful to them, and do them a good turn if we can. I am quite sorry to see them run about as they do; and indeed it is not very decent, for they have nothing upon their backs to keep off the cold. I’ll tell you what, I will make each of them a shirt, and a coat and waistcoat, and a pair of pantaloons into the bargain; and do you make each of them a little pair of shoes.’
The thought pleased the good cobbler very much; and one evening, when all the things were ready, they laid them on the table, instead of the work that they used to cut out, and then went and hid themselves, to watch what the little elves would do.
About midnight in they came, dancing and skipping, hopped round the room, and then went to sit down to their work as usual; but when they saw the clothes lying for them, they laughed and chuckled, and seemed mightily delighted.
Then they dressed themselves in the twinkling of an eye, and danced and capered and sprang about, as merry as could be; till at last they danced out at the door, and away over the green.
The good couple saw them no more; but everything went well with them from that time forward, as long as they lived.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Literary Advent Day 2

Christmas at Sea

By
Robert Louis Stevenson

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;
The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;
The wind was a nor'-wester, blowing squally off the sea;
And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the suff a-roaring before the break of day;
But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.
We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,
And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.
All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;
All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;
All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,
For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.
We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;
But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard.
So's we saw the cliff and houses and the breakers running high,
And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.
The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;
The good red fires were burning bright in every longshore home;
The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;
And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.
The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;
For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)
This day of our adversity was blessèd Christmas morn,
And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.
O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,
My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;
And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,
Go dancing round the china plates that stand upon the shelves.
And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,
Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;
And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,
To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessèd Christmas Day.
They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.
"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.
"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate, Jackson, cried.
. . . ."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.
She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,
And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood;
As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,
We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.
And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,
As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;
But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,
Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.

e.e. cummings. little tree


December 1st literary advent 

[little tree]
little tree 
little silent Christmas tree 
you are so little 
you are more like a flower 

who found you in the green forest 
and were you very sorry to come away? 
see          i will comfort you 
because you smell so sweetly 

i will kiss your cool bark 
and hug you safe and tight 
just as your mother would, 
only don't be afraid 

look          the spangles 
that sleep all the year in a dark box 
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine, 
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads, 

put up your little arms 
and i'll give them all to you to hold 
every finger shall have its ring 
and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy 

then when you're quite dressed 
you'll stand in the window for everyone to see 
and how they'll stare! 
oh but you'll be very proud 

and my little sister and i will take hands 
and looking up at our beautiful tree 
we'll dance and sing 
"Noel Noel" 

Monday, November 28, 2016

Winter Blue by Robert Frost



Winter Blue
By
Robert Frost


Winter uses all the blues there are.
One shade of blue for water, the other for ice.
Another blue for shadows over snow.
The clear or cloudy sky used blue twice -
Both different blues.  And hills row after row
Are colored blue according to how far.
You know the blue jays double-blur device
Shows best when there's no green leaves to show.
And Sirius is a winter blue green star.



Sunday, November 27, 2016

Louisa May Alcott. Christmas

From The Short Story A Christmas Dream, And How It Came True

From our happy home
Through the world we roam
One week in all the year,
Making winter spring
With the joy we bring
For Christmas-tide is here.

Now the eastern star
Shines from afar
To light the poorest home;
Hearts warmer grow,
Gifts freely flow,
For Christmas-tide has come.

Now gay trees rise
Before young eyes,
Abloom with tempting cheer;
Blithe voices sing,
And blithe bells ring,
For Christmas-tide is here.

Oh, happy chime,
Oh, blessed time,
That draws us all so near!
"Welcome, dear day,"
All creatures say,
For Christmas-tide is here.
by Louisa May Alcott. 
From http://m.poemhunter.com/poem/from-the-short-story-a-christmas-dream-and-how-i/

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

The Thanksgiving Visitor by Truman Capote



Truman Capote, an American Enigma

The Thanksgiving Visitor


My first real introduction to Truman Capote was through the teleplays during A the 1960s of The Thanksgiving Visitor and A Christmas Memoir.  Although, I was a child, the performances enthralled me.  After all Capote was writing about his own childhood memories and who better to understand them than a child.  I understood how "Buddy" felt and was thrilled to have found a character who portrayed my own feelings and attitudes.  It was a magical moment which filled me with wonder.   However, as time pushed forward the teleplays became a memory and faded until the holidays approached and I would look to see if they would be shown again.  Alas, I never caught them again, at least not until I found them on that riveting internet site, YouTube.  Thank god for that Haven of old teleplays and recordings!  I have found so many different joys there!  

But, to return to Capote.  My next experience with him came from a movie, Murder By Death, a Neil Simon murder mystery spoof which is hilarious!  Capote filled his role completely!  He owned it!  And yet, as an adult I see him now as more than just an actor.  I wonder if he really just was himself and not acting at all.  Sadly, Capote would be found dead in 1984, just 8 years after this movie was made.  He was only 59 years old.  Fortunately for us, he left behind a treasury of short stories, novels, plays, films, which includes The Thanksgiving Visitor. 

The Thanksgiving Visitor is a short story, a childhood memory of Capote.  It takes place during the Depression in rural Alabama.  The tale concerns Buddy, a nine year old boy who is having problems with a bully.  Buddy's friend and beloved elderly cousin decides to help the towo boys understand one another by inviting the bully, Odd Henderson  who is from an extremely poor family, to Buddy's family Thanksgiving dinner.   The Thanksgiving Visitor brings out morals concerning the poor, thievery, purposeful humiliation, and family love.  It grabs the reader (or viewer) with the simplicity of the time; as well as, the complexity of human relationships and the need of some to belittle others different from themselves.

It is an appropriate reading for the times we are in.  I believe you will enjoy this short story.  It is one of the few tales concerning Thanksgiving and the memories are filled with a fondness towards family gatherings we all can relate too.  Truman Capote brought forth a beautiful and yet, enlighting memory to share with us.  Enjoy.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

The Freedom of the Moon by Robert Frost


The Freedom of the Moon

I've tried the new moon tilted in the air 
Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster 
As you might try a jewel in your hair. 
I've tried it fine with little breadth of luster, 
Alone, or in one ornament combining 
With one first-water start almost shining. 

I put it shining anywhere I please. 
By walking slowly on some evening later, 
I've pulled it from a crate of crooked trees, 
And brought it over glossy water, greater, 
And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow, 
The color run, all sorts of wonder follow.

by Robert Frost