*Oh, and if some of your relatives got Kindles for xmas, don’t forget all my Goldport Press novels and one of the collections are on sale! Also, go to MGC and read Kate’s post. Warning, DO NOT DRINK ANYTHING while reading it, or your monitor will be Wassailed.*
It’s late, there’s two beasts to roast (not the boys) and I have spent the last two days cleaning and setting up (late minute travel and illness make the holidays so much fun) so I haven’t written in two days and I’m starting to get the shakes. Besides, I have a character to kill. So if I get the beasts in the oven soon enough (we’re mountain time, so it’s not 8 yet) I might get two/three hours to lay down words.
Which is why I’m going to leave you with someone else’s words. In this case Giovanni Guareschi in a story called “Men of Goodwill.”
It involves the parish priest, Don Camilo and the communist mayor, Peppone, who are in the middle of a heated political time.
Typos my own. It starts with “Christmas was approaching and it was high time to get hte figures of the Crib out of their drawer, so that they might be cleaned, touched up here and there and any stains carefully removed. it was already late, but Don Camilo was still at work in the presbytery. He heard a knocking at the window and on seeing that it was Peppone went to open the door.”
There’s the body of the story I can’t copy because plagiarism but they talk while Peppone is co-opted into paining the figures — and then —
“”I feel as if I were in Jail,” [Peppone] said gloomily.
“there is a always a way out of every jail in this world,” replied Don Camilo. “Jails can only confine the body, and the body matters so little.”
The baby was now finished, and it seemed as if His clear, bright coloring shone in Peppone’s huge dark hands. Peppone looked at Him and he seemed to feel in his palms the living warmth of that little body. He forgot all about being in jail.
“My son is learning a poem for Christmas,” Peppone announced proudly. “every evening I hear his mother teaching it to him before he goes to sleep. He’s a wonder!”
“I know,” agreed Don Camilo. “Look how beautifully he recited the poem for the bishop!”
Peppone stiffened. “That was one of the most rascally things you ever did!” he exclaimed. “I shall get even with you yet.”
“There is plenty of time for getting even, or for dying,” Don Camilo replied.
Then he took the figure of the ass and set it down close to the Madonna as she bent over Her Child. “that is Peppone’s son, and that is Peppone’s wife, and this one is Peppone,” said Don Camilo, laying his finger on the figure of the ass.
“And this one is Don Camilo,” Exclaimed Peppone, seizing the figure of the ox and adding it to the group.
“Oh, well! Animals always understand one another,” said Don Camilo.
And though Peppone said nothing he was now perfectly happy, because he still felt int he palm of his hand the living warmth of the pink Baby; and for a time the two men sat in the dim light looking at the little group of figures on the table and listening to the silence that had settled over the little world of Don Camilo, and that silence no longer seemed ominous but instead full of peace.”
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and may we animals always understand each other and be at peace.