F&F - Winter 2020 Newsletter

FELLOWSHIP & FAIRYDUST Winter Win n ter Newsletter

TABLE OF CONTENTS 2. A Word Wo fr th Team am W rd r from fro rom the t e Team. a .

3. What W at Wh a Tiny Tin Ti iny ny Tim Tim Ti im Really R al Re all lly ly Taught Tau aug au ught h Us; How o Charles ow Char arl ar rles Dickens Dicke ken ke ens Accidentally A ciden Ac ent en nta tal all lly ly Revived Re Chr hr Mi el Rev evi viv ive ved Christmas hri rist stm tmas ~ By B Michael M ch c ael e Durnan Dur urn ur rnan a 5.

5. Of Simpler Sim imp im mpler e Signs er Sig i ns ~ By ig B Bernadette Ber Be ern rnade det de ett tte te Flynn Fly Fl lyn ynn nn 6. Gingerbread Gin ing in nger erb rbre r ad Hot o Chocolate ot Chocolat ate at te Recipe R cip Re i e ip 7. Winter Win Wi int nte ter er Wordsearch W rd Wo r sear arc ar rch 8. Maoz Tzur 9. Christmas Italian

Panettone Pan an Re ip a et ett tto tone Recipe R cip i e 11. The T e Christmas Th Chr hri hr rist stm tmas Cuckoo Cucko k o ~ By ko B Frances Fra Fr ran ance ces es Browne Bro Br rown w e 16. In the th ak Midw dw t e Bleak a Midwinter dwi win int nte ter er 17. Festive Fest sti st tiv ive ve Spot the t e Difference th Dif iff if ffe fer ere ren ence 18. Little Robin Redbreast Lit Li itt ttl tle Ro Rob obin i Re R db d re r ast s ~ By st B Mike Mik ike ik ke Flynn Fly Fl lyn ynn nn 19. Holly Holl lly ll ly King Kin Ki ing ng 20. Blue Blu l e and lu a d Gold ~ By an B Avellina Ave Av vel ell lli lin ina Balestri Bal a est al str st tri ri

24. Winter Wi th st fo th Win int ntteeerr is the t e Best s Season for f r the t e Believer Bel eli el lieev v veer er 25. Faith Fai ait ai ith th in i the t e Tinkerbell th T Tiin in nk ker ke erb rbel ell ll and a d the an t e th Lost Losst Treasure Trrreeasur urre Mov ov viie ~ By Ar an n Niwl Niwl L T u re Movie o v B Arian Arriiia a N w 27. Down Dow o ow wn in wn i Yon Y Yon Forest Fore rresst 28. The T The Little Lit Li itt ttl tle Match Mat a atttcch Girl Gir iirrrll ~ By B Hans Han a s an Christian Chr hri hr rist sttiian a Andersen A der An ers er rsen e 30. Gabriel's Gab a ri ab r el el'l's Message Messag a e ag 31. The T e Selfish Th Sel ellfffiish Giant el Gian ant an nt ~ By B Oscar a ar Wilde W Wiil ilde 34. Oh Come, ee, Oh Come, e Emmanuel e, Emm Em mman anu nuel e

After Aft f er the long summer, a note of crispness finally ft f nally tinges fi the air, and birds make ready d to head to warmer climes as dy the leaves leav aaves turn a kaleidoscope of vibrant shades and crisply blanket the hardening ground. It’s almost hard to believe that 2020 will soon be at an end. As Winter grows ever nearer, I can’t help but feel f el a sense of sadness at all fe that this year has taken.

This year has unequivocally been one of uncertainty and struggle for f r our entire human family. fo f mily. Our safety, fa safe f ty, and that fe of our loved ones, has been threatened by an unseen enemy, and our personal freedoms f eedoms have fr hav a e been curtailed for av f r fo the greater good. Winter usually welcomes a time for f ra fo much-needed retreat from f om the world, for fr ffor spending time with those we love and resting up so that we can greet the new year with renewed vigour and purpose. As Dame Edith Sitwell said, “Winter W ffor comfort, mfo fort, t for ffor good food ffood “Wi Winter is the time for comf mf t, and warmth, for f r the touch of o a friendly f iendly l hand and for f r a talk ttalk beside fo fr ly fo the fire: f re: it is the time for f r home.” fi fo For some of us, though, spending time with our loved ones simply isn’t possible just now and, after aft f er a year of ft enforced enfo f rced isolation, retreat can seem less like a reward for fo ffor a year’s hard work. With the necessity to curtail family f mily fa gatherings and spiritual events all across the world this winter, an introspective focus ffocus on the world of the imagination, of literature, and media is more important than ever, as;; “There are adventures of o the spirit s irit and one can sp travel in books and interest oneselfllf in people and affairs. aff fffaairs r . One af rs need never be dull as long nng as one has friends ffriends to help, llp, gardens to help enjoy enj n oy nj o and books in the long nng winter evenings.” evening n s.” ~ D. E. Stevenson. ng

As this coming festive season will undoubtedly be very different than what we are all used to, the staff at Fellowship and Fairydust have decided to change things up too. This year, instead of just the customary single-themed issue of our magazine, we will also be putting out this Winter newsletter. To make room for both, the traditional themed issue has been moved to late January – when we could all use a little pick-me-up – and this Newsletter is taking a more interactive approach, hopefully helping you all to get into the festive spirit, and providing a much-needed distraction to all of our current worries. We hope you enjoy it and that you spend a safe and comfortable end to the year, with a view of a far better 2021 to come.

By B Michael M Michael Durnan

Charles Dickens Resurrecting Christmas Dickens, however, did more than just raise awareness of the dreadful social conditions of the 19th century poor. He also, albeit unintentionally, helped to restore and re-define the celebration of Christmas.

By the late 18th century, the celebration of Christmas was falling out of fashion in Britain. Mass migrations from the countryside had cut the former peasants off from village parishes. In the cities, these new workers were beyond the reach of their pastors — and most religious celebrations.

When Dickens was young, the public celebration of Christmas was at a low ebb. Christmas was generally seen as a quaint, silly and old- fashioned celebration that people could no longer be bothered with. The leading newspaper, The Times of London, even failed to mention Christmas at all between 1790 and 1835. Through his main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, Dickens paints a compelling portrait of this popular indifference towards Christmas.

Dickens performed public readings of A Christmas Carol to raise funds for charitable causes. His very first public reading was to raise donations for a new Industrial and Literary Institute in the English city of Birmingham, so that poor people could be admitted free or very cheaply. He also gave readings to raise funds for Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital in London.

As A Christmas Carol’s impact spread, Christmas charities grew and expanded. The book’s good influence was immense. For example, a factory owner in the United States, who attended a public reading of the story given by Dickens himself, decided to give his workers Christmas Day off and to give each of them a turkey every Christmas thereafter.

Tiny Tim Today Christmas today is far more commercialized in a way Dickens would not have anticipated, or even welcomed. However, it is arguably because of Charles Dickens that we still think of Christmas as a time of family gatherings and celebrations, of wholesome, innocent fun and enjoyment, of the exchange of gifts and goodwill, and of a time to show kindness and generosity to others less fortunate. This one author helped to restore and rejuvenate the public celebration of Christmas throughout Britain which continues to this day, despite the decline of the Christian faith so evident since Dickens was alive.

Dickens’ book has inspired several television and film adaptations. Its appeal is timeless, even though its setting is Victorian London.

A Christmas Carol still echoes through the ages, reminding us of what the true meaning and spirit of Christmas should be.

‘Scrooge knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that truly be said of all of us, and all of us. And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Everyone.’

It can also be said, that because of Charles Dickens and his wonderful Christmas story, that ever since it first appeared in 1843, the British people too, know how to keep Christmas well.

Some text quoted from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

Of Simpler Signs

By Bernadette Flynn If the oak its bounty spreads, and ‘cross the ground its acorns sheds, then Winter bears a snowy shawl of eiderdown, to blanket all.

If Autumn enters, warm and nice, then Winter’s bringing snow and ice.

If cold August follows hot July, then Winter will be hard and dry.

When out walking, look to see if hungry woodpeckers share a tree; for, if they do, you’ll surely know a Winter harsh and full of snow.

Look careful, close, and you will spy if wasps all build their nests up high; for if they build them nice and low, the chance is fair for little snow.

If early drifts of monarchs fly, then Winter’s coming, by and by; but if they sit and rest a spell, you’ll find the cold will wait as well.

Crickets ‘round the fireplace mean Jack Frost’s coming with his lace, to lay it on the fallen leaves and icicle-deck each house’s eaves.

If Lady Moon slips on her ring, then inclement weather’s beckoning; but if she gives a subtler glow, kind weather’s coming, not more snow.

Gingerbread Hot Chocolate Recipe Ingredients Ing gredients 6 cups of fresh fr f esh milk 1/4 cup cocoa powder 1/4 cup brown sugar 2 tbs molasses (If you can’t find fi f nd molasses you can make your own version by using, 3/4 cup of brown sugar; maple syrup or 3/4 cup granulated sugar mixed with 1/4 cup of hot water. Any An A y of these three options will work well but the brown sugar is the closest you will come to that traditional molasses flavour) f avour) fl 3 tsp ground ginger 2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/2 tsp nutmeg 1/4 tsp allspice 7 oz of diced milk chocolate Whipped cream (To top your mugs) Mini marshmallows * because, at the end of the day, what is hot chocolate without marshmallows! *

Method 1. Combine the milk, cocoa, sugar, molasses, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and allspice in a medium saucepan.

2. Cook over medium heat for f r around 5 mins *Do not let it boil or fo it will spoil it* 3. Once the brown sugar has all dissolved, your mixture is probably hot enough gh g to add your milk chocolate.

4. Mix until all the chocolate has melted and you have a nice smooth mixture.

5. Serve hot and garnish with whipped cream and marshmallows.

ADVENT PRANCER STOCKING JOLLY FAMILY CLIVE ANGELS PRESENTS STUFFING LIGHTS FESTIVAL COLD BELLS LISTS FIR TIDINGS COMET PUNCH BETHLEHEM LOG FIRE TINSEL COOKIES REINDEER BLITZEN MERRY TOYS CRANBERRY FROSTY RUDOLPH CANDLES FRUITCAKE MIRICLE CROWD SACRED TRADITION CANDY MISTLETOE SCROOGE GIFTS TREE CUPID CARDS NOEL TURKEY DANCER GOODWILL SEASON CEDAR OAK GREETINGS VACATION DASHER LED CELEBRATE OFFERING SLEIGHBELLS VIXEN HAPPY DECEMBER CELIA PARADE SNOWFLAKE WINTER DECORATIONS HOLIDAY CEREMONIES DONNER PARTY HOLLY S SOLSTICE WORSHIP CHEER PINE HOLY WREATH EGGNOG SPIRIT CHIMNEY ICICLES POINSETTIA YULE ELVES STAR

O mighty mi st sal al n, mig ight hty ty stronghold str tro rong n hold of my m salvation, alv lva vat ati tion, n to pra ra Yo del el t praise rai aise You Y u is a delight. eli lig ight ht. t.

Restore R st Re sto tore r my m House of Prayer Pra Pr ray aye yer er and an th wi bri ri th iv off ff a d there t er ere re we w will wil ill ll bring rin ing ng a thanksgiving t an ank nks ksgiv ivi vin ing ng offering. ffe fer eri rin ing ng.

When W en Wh e You Y u will Yo wil wi ill ll have hav ave av ve prepared pre rep re epar are red the t e slaughter th slau aug au ught hte ter er for fo th blasphem em fo f r the t e blaspheming emi min ing ng foe, f e, e Then T en Th e I shall shal all al ll complete comp m let mp ete et te with wit wi ith th a song n of hymn ng hym hy ymn mn the th dedi di at th Al t e dedication d cat ati tion of the t e Altar.

Alt lta tar ar. r.

My M soul u had been ul e sated en sat ate at ted with wit wi ith th troubles, tro tr roub u les, my st en consum um wi gri ri m strength str tre ren eng ngt gth th has been e consumed u ed with wit ith th grief. r ef ef. f.

They Th em li wi har ar hi T ey e had embittered emb mbit itt tte ter ere red my m life lif ife fe with wit ith th hardship, ard rdshi hip ip, with wi th cal al ki m' bondag ag wit ith th the t e calf-like alf lff-l -li lik ike ke kingdom's kin ing ngdom' m s bondage. a e.

But ut wi gre re pow ow u with wit ith th His great r at a power owe wer er He brought bro r ug ro u ht h forth f rt fo rth th the t e treasured th tre tr reasur ure ur red ones, Pharaoh's Ph h' ar an al hi off ff ri P ar ara raoh' h s army arm rmy my and a d all all ll his h s offspring ffs fspri rin ing ng Went Wen We ent nt down dow own ow wn like lik li ike ke a stone sto st tone into int in nto to the t e deep. th deep e . ep To the th ly ab Wo bro ro t e holy l abode a ode of His Word W rd r He brought r ug u ht h me.

But u there, ut t er th ere re, e, too, t o, I had no rest to r st re s And An oppre re cam am an ex A d an a oppressor r ssor came a e and a d exiled exi xil iled me.

For I had served ser erv er rve ved aliens, ali al lien e s, And An dr ben en wi A d had drunk dru run unk nk benumbing enu num umb mbin ing ng wine. win ine.

Scarcely Scar arc ar rcel ely ly had I departed dep e ar ep art rte t ed At Bab ab n' en Zer er cam am A Babylon's aby byl ylon' n s end e d Zerubabel eru rub ubab a el e came. a e.

At A the t e end th e d of seventy en sev eve ev ven ent nty ty years y ar ye ars rs I was w s saved. wa sav ave av ved.

To sever sev ev th to cy eve ver er the t e towering tow owe wer eri rin ing ng cypress cyp ypre r ss sought soug u ht ug h the t e Aggagite, th A gag Ag a it ag ite te, e, son of Hammedatha, Ham amm am mmedat ath at tha, a But ut becam am snar ar an st hi u it i became a e [a [ snare are re and] a d] d a stumbling stu tum umb mbli lin ing ng block to t him him im and an hi ar an wa st a d his h s arrogance arr rro rogan a ce was w s stilled. sti til ill lled.

The T e head of the Th t e Benjaminite th Ben enj en njam ami min ini nit ite te You Y u lifted Yo lif li ift fte ted and an th en hi nam am Yo ob a d the t e enemy, e em emy my, y, his h s name a e You Y u obliterated o li lit ite ter era rat ate t ed His numerous num nu umer ero rous progeny pro r gen ro eny en ny - his h s possessions hi on the th gal al Yo han an t e gallows all llow ows ws You Y u hanged. ang nged.

Greeks Gre r ek re eks ks gathered gat ath at ther ere red against a ai ag ain inst s me then th an day ay t en e in i Hasmonean a days. ays ys.

They T ey Th e breached bre r ached the re t e walls th wal wa all lls of my m towers tow to owe wer ers rs and an th def ef al th oil il a d they t ey e defiled efi fil iled all all ll the t e oils; i s; And An fr th re th fl ks A d from fro rom the t e one remnant rem emn mnan ant nt of the t e flasks f asks k a miracle mi wa wr fo th ro mir ira racle was w s wrought wro roug u ht h for f r the t e roses. r ses.

Men en in ig ei day ay e of insight i sig i ht h - eight eig ight h days ays ys established est sta st tab abli l shed for f r song fo n and ng a d jubilation an jub u il ub i at ati tion Bare Bar ar Yo ly ar are re Your Y ur u holy l arm arm rm and a d hasten an hast ste st ten en the t e End th E d for En f r salvation fo sal alv al lva vat ati tion Avenge Av th ve an Yo ser er Ave ven eng nge the t e vengeance ven eng ngean a ce of Your Y ur u servants' erv rva van ant nts ts' blood from fro fr rom the t e wicked th w cke wi k d nation. ke nat ati at tion.

For the th tr to ng del el fo t e triumph tri riu ium ump mph is too t o long n delayed e ay aye yed for f r us, and a d there an t er th ere re is no end e d to en t days day ays ay ys of evil, evi ev vil il, l, Repel Re th Re th net et st ow Rep epel e the t e Red R d One in i the t e nethermost eth ther erm rmost s shadow o and a d establish an est sta st tab abli l sh for f r us the fo t e seven th sev eve ev ven en shepherds. shep e her ep erd er rds.

Maoz Tzur

Christmas Italian Panettone P anettone Ingredients

1 ½ Tablespoons of yeast ¼ Cup of sugar 4 Cups of strong bread flour 1 Teaspoon of salt 2 ½ Cups of mixed dried fruits (whichever mix you prefer) 1 Cup of lemon and orange peel, finely chopped ½ Cup of candied cherries 170ml of Milk 6 Large eggs 1 ¼ Cups of butter ¼ Cup of Almonds 6 Tablespoons of your favourite liqueur or fruit juice

Method: Prepare the Fruit: Put all the dried and candied fruits into a bowl and mix thoroughly (this includes the peel).

Pour in the liquor or fruit juice you selected and mix again. Cover and store in a cool dark place overnight. (Do not refrigerate)

Prepare the Dough: Warm up 150ml of the milk to lukewarm temperature. Keep the remaining 20ml of milk in the fridge. In a heatproof jug or bowl, sprinkle the dry yeast over the warmed milk, stir in the sugar, and leave to one side for 5 minutes (until bloomed).

Tip the flour into the bowl a new larger bowl or a mixer with a dough hook attachment. Sprinkle the salt into one side of the bowl. Pour in the frothy yeast mixture onto the other side - salt should never come into direct contact with dry or fresh yeast as it will kill the yeast, making the bread dense and hard.

Mix the flour, salt, and yeast at slow speed to combine the ingredients. Add 5 of the eggs and either mix more vigorously or turn the mixer to medium speed and continue mixing until the dough smooths out (although it will become sticky).

Cut the softened butter into bite-sized chunks (leave some for greasing a bowl and the tin later). Knead vigorously or raise the speed of the mixer and add the butter, a few pieces at a time.

Knead the dough until it turns glossy and even smoother and so soft ft f and airy that it will be impossible to handle (for (fo fo f r a mixer this is approximately 5 minutes). This is the texture that you're looking for. f r. fo Grease a large baking bowl or dish with half of the remaining butter. To retain the maximum amount of air, let the dough slide down into the greased bowl by its own weight. Do not force fo f rce it out.

Scrape down any leftover left fft over dough with a soft f spatula. Cover the greased bowl ft with a lid or tightly with plastic wrap and put it into a very cool place, preferably prefe f rably the fridge, fe f idge, and leave to proof overnight - the cold, long, slow rise fr is always better, and the result is a light and airy cake with a soft ft f crumb.

Making the Panettone:

Place the dough on a floured fl surfa fa f oured work surface f ce and spread out into a rectangular shape. Strain the soaked fruits f uits through a fine fr f ne sieve and discard the juice. Place fi half of the fruits fr f uits onto the spread-out dough.

Fold the dough over the fruits f uits and lightly roll the dough around to evenly fr distribute the fruit. fr befo fo f uit. Spread the dough again and repeat as before f re with the remaining fruit. f uit. The dough will be lumpy and knobbly, but look out for fr f r fo clusters of fruit fr f uit and give them another roll around to redistribute it; if needed.

Form the dough into a roughly shaped ball.

Grease a 7-inch panettone tin or panettone paper case with the remaining butter. If you have neither of these, use a regular cake tin, but line the base and sides with greaseproof paper standing at least 2 inches above the rim.

Drop the dough into the center of the tin, tuck the almonds into the surface surfa f ce fa of the cake, and cover loosely with a tea cloth.

Proof the cake in a warm place for f r 2 to 3 hours until the dough is well risen fo and rising above the tin. If 3 hours isn't enough, give it enough time: The key here is to have the dough rise above the rim of the tin or case.

Preheat the oven to 350 F/180 C. Mix the remaining egg with the remaining ounce of milk and brush over the surface surfa f ce of the cake. Bake in the middle of fa the oven for fo fo fu f r 20 minutes. Lower the heat to 300 F/150 C and cook for f r a further f rther 40 minutes. The panettone is ready when a skewer comes out clean from f om the fr middle part of the cake.

Let the cake cool for fo f r 5 minutes in the tin on a cooling rack, then remove and leave it to cool completely.

The Christmas Cuckoo

By Frances Browne [first published in 1856]

Once upon a time there stood in the midst of a bleak moor, in the North Country, a certain village. All its inhabitants were poor, for their fields fi f elds were barren, and they had little trade; but the poorest of them all were two brothers called Scrub and Spare, who followed the cobbler's craft. craft ft f . Their hut was built of clay and wattles. The door was low and always open, for there was no window. The roof did not entirely keep out the rain and the only thing comfortable was a wide fireplace, f replace, for which the brothers fi could never find fi suffi fi fi f nd wood enough to make sufficient f cient fire. f re. There they worked in most brotherly friendship, fr f iendship, though with little encouragement.

On one unlucky day a new cobbler arrived in the village. He had lived in the capital city of the kingdom and, by his own account, cobbled for the queen and the princesses. His awls were sharp, his lasts were new; he set up his stall in a neat cottage with two windows. The villagers soon found out that one patch of his would outwear two of the brothers'. In short, all the mending left f Scrub ft and Spare, and went to the new cobbler.

The season had been wet and cold, their barley did not ripen well, and the cabbages never half- closed in the garden. So, the brothers were poor that winter, and when Christmas came, they had nothing to feast on but a barley loaf and a piece of rusty bacon. Worse than that, the snow was very deep and they could get no firewood. f rewood. fi Their hut stood at the end of the village; beyond it spread the bleak moor, now all white and silent. But that moor had once been a forest; great roots of old trees were still to be found in it, loosened from f om the soil and laid bare by the winds and rains. One fr of these, a rough, gnarled log, lay hard by their door, the half of it above the snow, and Spare said to his brother: -"Shall we sit here cold on Christmas while the great root lies yonder? Let us chop it up for firewood, f rewood, the work will make us fi warm."

"No," said Scrub, "it's not right to chop wood on Christmas; besides, that root is too hard to be broken with any hatchet."

"Hard or not, we must have a fire," fi f re," replied Spare. "Come, brother, help me in with it. Poor as we are there is nobody in the village will have such a yule log as ours."

Scrub liked a little grandeur, and, in hopes of having a fine f ne yule fi log, both brothers strained and strove with all their might till, between pulling and pushing, the great old root was safe on the hearth, and beginning to crackle and blaze with the red embers.

In high glee the cobblers sat down to their bread and bacon.

In the Bleak Midwinter

By Christina Rossetti and Gustav Holst

In the bleak mid-winter Frosty wind made moan; Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak mid-winter Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain, Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign: In the bleak mid-winter A stable-place sufficed The Lord God Almighty — Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom Cherubim Worship night and day, A breastful of milk And a mangerful of hay; Enough for Him, whom Angels Fall down before, The ox and ass and camel Which adore.

Angels and Archangels May have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim Thronged the air; But only His Mother In her maiden bliss Worshipped the Beloved With a kiss.

What can I give Him, Poor as I am?

If I were a Shepherd I would bring a lamb; If I were a Wise Man I would do my part, Yet what I can I give Him, Give my heart.

Little Lititittttltle Robin R bin Redbreast Ro R dbreast Re

Holly H lllly Ho ly King K ng Ki n Sing we of a Mystery Now as long ago Blood-red holly berry Blood upon the snow Oak King shall rise The Waxing Year to bring Therefore bid we farewell To the Holly King Now in deep midwinter All seems in a trance Comes the golden Oak King In His age-old dance Comes He to slay Yet honor He does bring To His fallen brother The darksome Holly King In the bright midsummer The Year Wheel’s turned around Then shall be the Oak King’s Blood upon the ground Ever it comes Once more the Year’s Waning Then shall be victorious The darksome Holly King Sing we of a Mystery Now as long ago Blood-red holly berry Blood upon the snow Oak King shall rise The Waxing Year to bring Therefore bid we farewell To the Holly King

By Lady Isadora

BLUE AND GOLD A Robin Hood Retelling Excerpt

By Avellllllliina Balestri Bale le B Avellina l strri

Winter is the Best Season for the Believer

I love fairies even if they are portrayed quite differently than what folklore says about them. I can enjoy a good movie or picture no matter what. One fairy of course is the famous Tinkerbell and the movies that were made with the Disney fairies’ franchise.

While most of the movies had a message of hope and love – mostly dealing with friendships – there was one that I found particularly fulfilling in that hope. I was surprised that what was essentially a children’s movie had such a very profound message at the end.

Tinkerbell and the Lost Treasure was released in 2009. If you’re not familiar with the movie referenced above, Tinkerbell is given a very important task. She has to make a staff that, with the full blue moon in fall (and surprisingly we have one coming up), she can use make blue pixie dust. This is then used to make new yellow pixie dust, needed so that the fairies can work magic and fly. This staff has to be just right, with a very special and fragile moonstone at the top.

In the course of preparing the staff, her friend Terrance helps, but here is when things begin to go wrong and they have a falling out. Tinkerbell has a bit of temper to her, and in her frustration, she ends up accidently breaking the moonstone – which is irreplaceable.

Learning of a magic mirror far away which contains one last wish, she sets off to find it so that she can wish for a new moonstone. Along the way there are various disasters, but she ends up befriending a firefly and is helped by other creatures. At last, she finds the mirror, but accidently uses the last wish when the firefly bothers her. She gets angry but then realizes that it was she that made all the mistakes and, still holding the mirror, pours her heart out and wishes that her friend Terrance was with her. He shows up in the mirror and Tinkerbell thinks that it is just her imagination, until finally he puts his hand on her shoulder. He tells her he was wrong and she, in return, admits that she was wrong and stupid to behave as she had. One always wonders if there was really one more wish left in the mirror at all?

Eventually, they all get back to Pixie Hollow, just in time for the rising of the fall blue moon. Arranging the pieces of the moonstone on the staff causes everyone to all but faint. The full blue moon rises, and the diamond from the magic mirror sets off beams through the broken pieces, transmuting the light into the largest amount of blue pixie dust ever seen.

The fairies then troop back to the main Pixie Dust tree and, let me tell you, in my opinion this is one of the best scenes that has ever been done and is fairly close to existing folklore about trooping fairies. However, at the end, Tinkerbell, Terrance, and the firefly all hold the staff and there is a bit of narration that goes like this: “The greatest treasures are not gold, nor jewels, nor works of art. They cannot be held in your hands.

They're held within your heart. For worldly things will fade away as seasons come and go. But the treasure of true friendship will never lose its glow.”

While the Tinkerbell movies always center on friendship, they are much more childlike, which is the movie audience they were intended for. However, this narration, to me, is much more profound than that; it speaks to a much deeper meaning of life – much deeper than a simple ‘it is good to make friends’ meaning and ‘be nice.’

In other words, physical treasures – no matter what kind they are – are not what is worthy in the end.

They are ultimately temporary. It’s what is within your heart, your faith, your friendship to others, that are the most important treasures; treasures that cannot be held within your hands, but only in your heart and, by extension, your soul/spirit. While, again, the narration speaks of friendship at the very end, the tone and message, to me, is easily extended to say that it is not ultimately a physical path, an Earthly accumulation of treasures, that is worthy, but rather a spiritual path centred on what we learn in our time on this Earth. For those of us that believe in karma and rebirth, it’s a profound reminder, but even for those who do not, the same message is there – it is the treasures of the heart and by extension the soul which really count.

This may be a simple children’s movie, but the message struck me very deeply. The greatest treasures are not gold, nor jewels, nor works of art. They cannot be held in your hands. They're held within your heart.

For worldly things will fade away as seasons come and go. Bendithion disglair i bawb, or Bright blessings to all. No matter our path, may it be one leading to treasures not of the world but of the heart, our faith, our spirit, and our soul.

Down in Yon Forest

By Ralph Vaughan Williams

Down in yon forest be a hall, Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

‘Tis coverlided over with purple and pall.

Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

Oh in that hall is a pallet bed, Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

‘Tis stained with blood like cardinal red.

Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

And at that pallet is a stone Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

On which the Virgin did atone Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

Under that Hall is a gushing flood Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

From Christ’s own side ’tis water and blood.

Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

Beside that bed a shrub tree grows, Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

Since He was born it blooms and blows.

Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

Oh, on that bed a young Squire sleeps, Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

His wounds are sick, and see, he weeps.

Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

Oh hail yon Hall were none can sin, Sing May, Queen May, sing Mary!

Cause it’s gold outside and silver within, Sing all good men for the new-born Baby!

The Little Match Girl

By Hans Christian Andersen It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and darkness, a poor little girl with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, for they had belonged to her Mother and the poor little girl had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling at a terrible rate.

One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized the other and ran away with it saying he could use it as a cradle when he had children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had anyone given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, looking like the picture of misery. The snowflakes fell on her fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.

Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was New-year's eve, yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but could not keep off the cold. And she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches.

Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out- "scratch!" how it sputtered as it burnt. It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed as though she was sitting by a large iron stove. How the fire burned! And seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out!

The stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.

She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where its light fell upon the wall it became as transparent as a veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a snowy white table cloth on which stood a splendid dinner service and a steaming roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in it, to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.

She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas tree.

It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one she had seen through the rich merchant's glass door. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.

The Christmas lights rose higher and higher till they looked to her like the stars in the sky.

Then she saw a star fall, leaving behind it a bright streak of fire. "Someone is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, and who was now in Heaven, had told her that when a star falls, a soul was going up to God. She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance.

"Grandmother," cried the little one, "O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large glorious Christmas-tree." And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day. And her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God. In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall. She had been frozen on the last evening of the year; and the Newyear's sun rose and shone upon a little child. The child still sat, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt.

"She tried to warm herself," said some. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year's day.

Gabriel’s Gab a riell’s Message Charles Bordes & Sabine Baring-Gould The angel Gabriel Gab a riel from ab f om heaven fr heav a en came av His wings as drifted drift f ed snow ft o ow His eyes e es as flame ey f ame fl "All " ll hail" said he "thou lowly "A low o ly maiden Mary ow r ry Most highly favored fav fa avored lady, lady d , " Gloria, Gloria dy "For known know o n a blessed mother thou shalt be ow All generations laud and honor thee Thy h Son shall be Emanuel hy By seers foretold f retold fo Most highly favored fav fa avored maid, " Gloria, Gloria Then gentle Mary r meekly bowed ry bow o ed her head ow "To me be as it pleaseth God, " she said, "My "M My soul soul shall laud and magnify f His holy name." fy na ame."

Most Most highly favored fav fa avored lady, lady d , Gloria, Gloria dy G l o r ia

THE THE SELFISH SELFIS SH GIANT T

By Oscar Wilde

Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play in the Giant’s garden. It was a large, lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars, and there were twelve peach-trees that in the spring-time broke out into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl, and in the autumn bore rich fruit. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them.

“How happy we are here!” they cried to each other. One day the Giant came back. He had been to visit his friend the Cornish ogre, and had stayed with him for seven years. After the seven years were over, he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited, and he determined to return to his own castle. When he arrived, he saw the children playing in the garden.

“What are you doing there?” he cried in a very gruff voice, and the children ran away. “My own garden is my own garden,” said the Giant; “anyone can understand that, and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.”

So, he built a high wall all around it, and put up a notice-board. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED He was a very selfish Giant.

The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high wall when their lessons were over, and talk about the beautiful garden inside.

“How happy we were there,” they said to each other. Then the Spring came, and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of the Selfish Giant it was still winter.

The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children, and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the notice-board it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again, and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the Snow and the Frost.

“Spring has forgotten this garden,” they cried, “so we will live here all the year round.”

The Snow covered up the grass with her great white cloak, and the Frost painted all the trees silver.

Then they invited the North Wind to stay with them, and he came. He was wrapped in furs, and he roared all day about the garden, and blew the chimney-pots down.

“This is a delightful spot,” he said, “we must ask the Hail on a visit.”

So, the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the castle till he broke most of the slates, and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go. He was dressed in grey, and his breath was like ice.

“I cannot understand why the Spring is so late in coming,” said the Selfish Giant, as he sat at the window and looked out at his cold white garden. “I hope there will be a change in the weather.”

But the Spring never came, nor the Summer. The Autumn gave golden fruit to every garden, but to the Giant’s garden she gave none.

“He is too selfish,” she said. So, it was always Winter there, and the North Wind, and the Hail, and the Frost, and the Snow danced about through the trees.

One morning the Giant was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the King’s musicians passing by. It was really only a little linnet singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then the Hail stopped dancing over his head, and the North Wind ceased roaring, and a delicious perfume came to him through the open casement.

“I believe the Spring has come at last,” said the Giant; and he jumped out of bed and looked out.

What did he see? He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall the children had crept in, and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see there was a little child. And the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms, and were waving their arms gently above the children’s heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight, and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still winter.

It was the farthest corner of the garden, and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree, and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still quite covered with frost and snow, and the North Wind was blowing and roaring above it.

“Climb up! little boy,” said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny. And the Giant’s heart melted as he looked out.

“How selfish I have been!” he said; “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put the poor little boy on the top of the tree, and then I will knock down the wall, and my garden shall be the children’s playground for ever and ever.”

He was really very sorry for what he had done. So, he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly, and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him, they were so frightened that they all ran away, and the garden became winter again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the Giant coming. And the Giant stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand, and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom, and the birds came and sang on it, and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them around the Giant’s neck, and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that the Giant was not wicked any longer, came running back, and with them came the Spring.

“It is your garden now, little children,” said the Giant, and he took a great axe and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o’clock, they found the Giant playing with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen. All day long they played, and in the evening, they came to the Giant to bid him good-bye.

“But where is your little companion?” he said: “the boy I put into the tree.” The Giant loved him the best because he had kissed him.

“We don’t know,” answered the children; “he has gone away.”

“You must tell him to be sure and come here to-morrow,” said the Giant. But the children said that they did not know where he lived, and had never seen him before; and the Giant felt very sad. Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with the Giant. But the little boy whom the Giant loved was never seen again. The Giant was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend, and often spoke of him.

“How I would like to see him!” he used to say. Years went over, and the Giant grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge armchair, and watched the children at their games, and admired his garden.

“I have many beautiful flowers,” he said; “but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.”

One winter morning he looked out of his window as he was dressing. He did not hate the Winter now, for he knew that it was merely the Spring asleep, and that the flowers were resting. Suddenly he rubbed his eyes in wonder, and looked and looked. It certainly, was a marvellous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were all golden, and silver fruit hung down from them, and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.

Downstairs ran the Giant in great joy, and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass, and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger, and he said, “Who hath dared to wound thee?” For on the palms of the child’s hands were the prints of two nails, and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.

“Who hath dared to wound thee?” cried the Giant; “tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him.”

“Nay!” answered the child; “but these are the wounds of Love.”

“Who art thou?” said the Giant, and a strange awe fell on him, and he knelt before the little child.

And the child smiled on the Giant, and said to him, “You let me play once in your garden, to-day you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise.”

And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found the Giant lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.

By John Mason Neale O come, O come, Emmanuel, And ransom captive Israel, That mourns in lonely exile here, Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free Thine own from Satan's tyranny; From depths of hell Thy people save, And give them victory o'er the grave.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high, And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh; Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death's dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come And open wide our heav'nly home; Make safe the way that leads on high, And close the path to misery.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Adonai, Lord of might, Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height, In ancient times didst give the law In cloud and majesty and awe.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.