merry christmas
here's hoping you have a wonderful christmas season!
my giftto you--a story:
The Mistletoe Who Hated Kissing
Once upon a time, long, long ago, a king ruled a smallish
kingdom in a green and fertile land. Now the king's
family had a
long tradition of royal gardening, which was their
peaceful side,
and of royal warmaking, which was their definitely
unpeaceful
side. The rose bushes in the queen's rose garden were
very
proud, descended from some of the earliest roses
hundreds of years before brought
from China and India, and the herb plants exhibited
great dignity, as they could
trace their roots back to cuttings first brought from
Persia by Alexander the Great.
The King's personal grove of Christmas trees could
remember back when they were
merely pinecones, to the tales of the eldest trees of
the journey from the Black
Forest. Even the dandelions were elegant, and put on
airs when their seeds blew
away in the wind. But no one was more pompous than the
garden of mistletoe
which the Queen raised for Christmas, because she was
inordinately fond of kissing
the king.
Now, you may know about mistletoe at Christmas and
kissing, but in case you
don't, here is a quick review. A very old tradition is
followed by hanging a sprig of
mistletoe - a shrubby, viny plant with green leaves,
and little white berries - over a
doorway, or from a light in the center of the room.
Anyone who stands under the
mistletoe can be - or, possibly, must be - kissed. Some
people may spend the
better part of Christmas just lurking in doorways,
hoping that the right person will
show up, stand under the mistletoe, and be ready to be
kissed. It's one of those
traditions that makes a great deal of sense from around
the age of sixteen or so on
up, but tends to be puzzling, if not downright gross,
if you're much younger.
The Queen's mistletoe plants were the aristocrats of
the garden, and their royal
destiny to be cut for Christmas was considered the
highest honor. But one year,
the youngest mistletoe plant, whose education had been
neglected, decided that he
wouldn't be cut. "I can't stand mushy stuff," he said,
"not hugging and certainly not
kissing." So he grew around the oak tree where he was
planted, higher and higher,
trying to hide. When the official royal mistletoe
cutting staff went into the garden,
just before Christmas, he almost escaped. But they
needed a great deal of
mistletoe, for the castle had so many doorways, and
just before they returned to
the castle, he felt the quick cut of the shears, and
will he or nill he, he was off to the
royal chambers to be hung.
"No Kissing!" he shouted into the gardeners' faces, but
they completely ignored
him, and as destiny and the whim of the Christmas
decorating staff would have it,
he ended up hung directly over the king's throne. The
king wasn't celebrating
Christmas at all, for he was arguing with a visiting
prince, from a neighboring
kingdom. "Awesome," thought the young mistletoe.
"Fighting's much more fun than
kissing stuff." The two leaders argued about treaties,
and borders, and who had
rights to the river and the deer in the forest and
anything else they could think of,
while the youngest mistletoe listened excitedly,
wondering if they'd actually draw
swords and fight a great duel. With lots of blood. And
bits chopped off.
Meanwhile, the queen was most put out, because this was
a time of year when she
had planned on kissing the king a great deal, as was
her custom, and in spite of
her hanging mistletoe everywhere, even right over his
head in the throne room, he
was far too busy arguing with that nice young prince
from next door to pay her the
least attention. So she assembled her staff of ten
royal Christmas decorators, and
the eleven royal ornament carriers, as well as the
twelve official bearers of eggnog
and the fifteen designated lords of cookie trays, and
last in line, the royal bearer for
the queen's footstool, which she stood upon to be tall
enough to kiss the king (for
she was quite short and round, just as the king was
tall and skinny). And the entire
troop descended into the king's throne room.
And the ten royal Christmas decorators surrounded the
king, as the eleven royal
ornament carriers grouped themselves around the
neighboring prince, while in
between the two, the twelve official bearers of eggnog
and the fifteen cookie tray
lords all prepared refreshments for the assembled
multitudes. The youngest
mistletoe was deeply disappointed, but the worst, he
saw, was yet to come.
The Queen's stool bearer placed her stool right next to
the king, who was trying
unsuccessfully to see where the prince was, behind all
the servants, so that he
could insult him one last time. She climbed up on her
stool, firmly kissed the King,
and proclaimed that all wars would be delayed at least
a fortnight, for the holidays.
The King, and the mistletoe, sighed deeply in unison,
for it had looked to be a grand
duel - although the neighboring Prince was actually
secretly relieved.
And then the King kissed the Queen back, and declared
peace for a little while, and
the mistletoe was so upset at the proceedings that he
flung himself off the golden
hook above the king's throne, landed on the king's
crown, and perched there,
grumbling, for the rest of the Christmas season.
Which didn't bother the Queen - or reportedly the king
- one bit.
holiday wishes from the pets!
holiday amycards!
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the original amycards!
mushy amycards!
tons of amycards!
grateful deadcards!
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