Each Christmas, I choose a tale to tell to my family as we gather together on Christmas Eve. It has become a wonderful tradition and everyone looks forward to "this year's story"! This year, I have chosen this story to be my Christmas Eve tale.
Perhaps you could start a similar tradition this year by choosing a favourite story from one of the stories you will find here in the next few days or another story that speaks to your heart and you would like to share with your loved ones.
Have a lovely Christmas everyone!
Check back on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and January 1, 2009 for more tales!
THE FAIRY TULIPS
Once upon a time there was a good old woman who lived in a little house. She had in her garden a bed of beautiful striped tulips.
One night she was wakened by the sounds of sweet singing and of babies laughing. She looked out at the window. The sounds seemed to come from the tulip bed, but she could see nothing.
The next morning she walked among her flowers. But she could find no signs of any one having been there the night before.
On the following night she was again wakened by sweet singing and babies laughing. She rose and stole softly through her garden. The moon was shining brightly on the tulip bed, and the flowers were swaying to and fro. The old woman bent down and looked closely. What a beautiful sight she saw. Standing by each tulip, was a little Fairy mother crooning and rocking the flower like a cradle, while in each tulip cup lay a little Fairy baby laughing and playing.
The good old woman stole quietly back to her house. From that time on she never picked a tulip, nor did she allow her neighbors to touch the flowers.
The tulips grew daily brighter in color and larger in size, and they gave out a delicious perfume like that of roses. They began, too, to bloom all the year round. And every night the little Fairy mothers caressed their babies and rocked them to sleep in the flower cups.
The day came when the good old woman died. The tulip bed was torn up by folks who did not know about the Fairies. They planted parsley in the garden instead of the flowers. But the parsley withered and died and so did all the other plants in the garden. From that time on, nothing would grow in the garden.
But the good old woman's grave grew beautiful. The Fairies sang above it, and kept it green. And on the grave of the old woman and all around it there sprang up tulips, daffodils, and violets, and other lovely flowers of spring.