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    Gifts from My Younger Self
    Gifts from My Younger Self
    Gifts from My Younger Self
    Ebook92 pages1 hour

    Gifts from My Younger Self

    By Bethany Banner

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    About this ebook

    Many people come up with homemade gifts for Christmas. Between 1993 and 2001, Bethany Banner wrote stories to give to her family and friends. Now you can enjoy these snapshots of a young writer and share in her imagination.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMount Helicon
    Release dateNov 11, 2020
    ISBN9781393385103
    Gifts from My Younger Self
    Author

    Bethany Banner

    When not writing stories or working on her podcast (Triumvir Clio's School of Classical Civilization), Beth spends her time working in healthcare professional development and playing with her daughter, who sometimes thinks she's a cat... or dog... or giraffe...

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      Book preview

      Gifts from My Younger Self - Bethany Banner

      Preface

      BETWEEN THE AGES OF 15 and 23, I wrote a short story every December. I printed them, hand illustrated them, and then bound them to give as Christmas presents to friends and family. Okay. I didn’t illustrate all of them. Some years I just wrote a story. Sometimes it was a Christmas story. Sometimes it was just a story that was flitting about my brain. And it wasn’t quite every year. I spent my junior year of college in Rome and didn’t write a story the Christmas that I was living abroad. But what follows is that collection of short stories, some shorter than others. They were all longer when they were illustrated... or printed in 48-point font... or larger. I have done a bit of editing, fixing typos and the like, but otherwise, these are a picture of a much younger me, giving a piece of myself to those that I love.

      Bethany Banner, December 2020

      The Girl Who Didn’t Know Christmas

      THIS STORY FROM 1993 started the tradition. At the time, I was the regular babysitter for two girls who now can both drink legally, and I wrote this story with them in mind. I can see my youth in this tale, in this attempt to find a new take on the eponymous Christmas story. This one was fully illustrated and has probably lost a little in this transition. Perhaps in a future edition, I will come up with a good way to include those hand-drawn and colored illustrations.

      For Jenny and Elizabeth,

      That you may know the joys of Christmas, not just the materialism

      Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived a little girl named Lise, who had never heard of Christmas. And because there was no Christmas, she did not know of Epiphany, Saint Nicholas, or Saint Lucia. Every day of Lise’s life was the same as before: freezing with the snows of winter, drenched with the rains of spring, dying in the heat of summer, shivering in the winds of fall, and back to winter. Thus, the years rolled by and soon Lise was no longer a little girl.

      One still winter night, as she shivered under a thin quilt, someone knocked on the door.  Grumbling, Lise ambled to the door and opened it.

      A young woman held out a flickering candle. I bring you light on this, the darkest day of the year. Lise raised her eyebrows, but wishing not to be rude, took the candle. When the woman was gone, Lise blew it out, for candles were very precious.

      A few days later, as Lise stepped outside to fetch water from the well, she noticed a pair of slippers on the stoop. Inside were sweetmeats, candies, and a note, but the note was unsigned.

      6 December

      There were no shoes out here, so I left a pair for you.

      Very thoughtful, Lise decided, but who could this be from?

      A few more weeks passed, and Lise thought she would see no more strange visitors. But one evening, as she sat knitting by the fire, she heard hooves stamping outside her door. Out of curiosity, Lise went to see who was there. Have you a bit of hay to spare for my reindeer? asked the little old man.

      Lise did not wish to be rude, but she did not wish to share either. Why should I give hay to you, old man? she snapped.

      Because you know not what you say, I shall give you a gift anyway. Out of his sack, the old man pulled a simple, handmade, wooden doll.

      Softly, Lise closed the door. Why should he give her a gift? What had she done for him?

      Twelve nights passed, and Lise thought and thought about her three strange visitors. On that twelfth night, three more visitors arrived. We are kings: Melchior, Balthazar, and Kaspar, on our way home from seeing the Messiah. Might we rest a while in your home?

      Slowly, Lise nodded her head. Who is the Messiah? she queried.

      Why, He is our Savior! replied one of the kings.

      On December the fourth, you met Saint Lucia, who brings light to the world. Two days later, on the sixth, you received presents from Saint Nicholas, a bishop who gives gifts to all the good little children. Twelve days ago, you met Father Christmas, when the Messiah was born. Today, the fifth of January, we teach you of Christmas.

      But, Lise interrupted, what is Christmas?

      Christmas is many things. Peace on Earth. The brotherhood of man. Sharing with those less fortunate. But most importantly, love.

      Japheth and the Princess Sarai

      ONE OF MY FAVORITE middle grade novels is The Ordinary Princess by M. M. Kaye. In 1994, I attempted my own stereotype-breaking fairy tale. I also had a thing for uncommon names. I might have gotten a little carried away with the names in this one.

      Part I: All My Joy

      ONCE UPON A TIME, IN a far-off kingdom, lived King Tubal-cain, his two sons, Maidai and Abima-el, and daughter Sarai. The good queen, Adah, died shortly after Princess Sarai was born. The young girl did her best to be the lady of the castle, but matters at court were a dreadful bore. As Sarai grew older, she grew to dislike court more and more. Her lack of interest worried the king. It isn’t good for the princess not to have interest in the affairs of the kingdom, especially if she is the only female in the family.

      Daddy, Sarai told him, I don’t want to sit in here all day. Think of all the world out there that you haven’t seen. There’s so much to explore; so many new things to see. How can I learn new things if I’m cooped up in here all day?

      The king had to admit he hadn’t seen much of the world, but being a princess was far different from being a prince or king. You’re a girl, he explained. Girls only have to know how to run a castle and embroider. You aren’t supposed to know about different cities and business matters.

      I bet things are different in the village. King Tubal-cain frowned at the snide remark.

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