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The Christmas Puppy's
Tale
by David J. Arthur
Aircastle Standard Poodles
"Mommy,
what are they doing?" The little one looked up at his mother with
questioning eyes.
"They are
exchanging gifts for one another to give on Christmas day." She
shifted just a little for him to rest gently against her chest. The
warmth of the fire crackled nearby, giving a comforting glow to each
as they nestled together.
"Christmas, what is
Christmas?" The little one sat up and cocked his head slightly. He
had seen his people do odd things, and was never really sure what
they were up to when they dashed from place to place, in and out of
buildings, when he accompanied them in the car. He knew they had a
purpose in all they did, but what they were doing now made entirely
no sense to him.
His mother smiled
as only moms can do. "It's a time of celebration where they give
presents to one another in memory of one who gave them a gift of
great value, ages ago." She gently began caressing and nuzzling
him, making the babe squirm just a little.
"Oh, ok, but I
still don't understand why?" He stood for a moment to avoid another
nuzzling. These were important questions, and he had to know what
this Christmas thing was all about. "What sort of things do they
give each other?"
"They give many
things, but the reason is to show how much they mean to each other."
Peeking around the
edge of the hearth, he gazed inquisitively at the sparkling
multicolored lights on a tree, of all things. It was so very
strange and wonderful. There were soft musical sounds that
surrounded him, and the yummy smells of cinnamon and spice, and of
food warming in the kitchen. He loved it when his people
celebrated, mostly because the children were far too involved in
having fun than to mind where they were holding their goodies, which
they always shared anyway. But this time was different. This time
there was a solemn peacefulness to the air. This celebration was
done in hushed tones and softer voices. There were old family
members in the house, some he had never seen before, and everyone
was hugging and touching, laughing gleefully as if they had never
been apart.
His mother
patiently nudged him toward her. "They want to show their devotion
to one another, and this is the holiday celebrating they love most
of all. It is a season dedicated to giving, a time to reflect on
family and friends."
The
warm embers in the fireplace crackled and spit, filling the room
with a musty comforting scent. He spied the brightly wrapped boxes
and objects beneath the lighted boughs, spotting one small package
with pictures of puppies and kittens upon it.
"Momma, who is that
one for?" Curiosity flashed across his chestnut eyes.
"Hmmmm, well, if
this year is like the previous, then that, my little one, is for
you."
"A gift for me?"
He was surprised! Oh, he knew they loved him, but to be given a
present too? "Oh momma, why would they do that? I haven't done
anything to deserve a gift from them, have I?"
"It's not for what
you have done, it is for who you are. Their gift is given simply
because they love you." And she began again to caress him gently.
"But I have no gift
in return." His eyes filled slightly, and a tear began to form.
"On the contrary,
you have given them the greatest gift of all! You have given them a
puppy's heart. You see, we don't have the material things in which
they put so much value. Our lives are spent in searching for what
are far more important and priceless treasures. Over the centuries,
we have tended their flocks and accompanied them between pastures.
We have brought their game when invited to their hunts. We keep
them warm when the cold of winter calls, and drive away vermin who
look to steal their provisions. We offer our friendship,
protection, obedience, and most of all our love. These are the real
gifts of this season, and for that, they place all that they have in
our care and keeping. My little son, there are no greater gifts to
be given."
"Then I too shall give all that I
am to them." With a satisfied resolve, he slowly turned to lie
again against his mother's chest, resting his head lightly upon his
forearm. He watched across the hall, the family gathering in the
dining room for their holiday meal. He had felt their kindness and
knew he too was cherished. And as sleep gently rested upon him, he
loved them all the more in exchange. Yes, he would give his gift to
them also. He would give all that he is in gratitude, for the whole
of his days.
©David
J. Arthur, December 24th, 2003, all rights reserved. |