Bedtime Stories for the Child in You. Louise D. Jewell

#11: Shoot for the Stars

      “Journey” - Rug hooking project on burlap backing

      The key to my happiness is my spiritual journey. It was a cold wintry night, and the sky was ablaze with stars. I pressed my face against the single-paned window beside my bed. Frost covered the glass. I blew warm air and gazed through the small opening.

      There I saw, high in the sky, a big bright star. Somewhere, I had seen the crèche, the nativity scene, with little baby Jesus lying in the stable. I gazed up at the bright star and cried with joy, “He’s there under the star!”

      My mother opened the door and called out into the darkness, “Go to sleep now.”

      “Mommy,” I whispered. “Jesus is under that big star, right?”

      Fatigued, she replied, “Yes, now go to sleep.”

      Not about to give up, I continued, “Mommy, can you help me find Him tomorrow?”

      “Yes. Now, go to sleep, Louise.” And with that, Mommy closed the door.

      Once again, I pressed my face against the cold glass and studied the sky above. A deep ache grew inside. Hot tears tumbled down my cheeks. I don’t think Mommy is going to help me.

      You see, my village ran beside the train tracks. Beyond that, the Gatineau River swiftly flowed. In the summer, logs from the mill upstream bobbled on the water. On the other side of the river, mountains climbed to the sky.

      How could I ever cross the river? I wasn’t allowed to step near the water’s edge, let alone climb into a boat all by myself.

      And that’s when I prayed my first prayer. At the age of four. Jesus, would you help me find you someday?

      Several years later, on another cold winter night, I found Him. Or rather, He found me. And this time, my tears were of joy. Pure joy.

       When it gets dark enough, you can see the stars.

       ~ Thomas Carlyle

      Story #12: Off the Rails

      Wasn’t I helpful?

      “Can I play too?” I was perhaps all of three or four years old.

      My three older siblings scaled up the side of a train car behind our house. Suddenly, they disappeared inside. Then they reappeared, exiting from an opening under the train car. They were covered from head to toe in white powder. Lime powder, that is.

      My siblings had found a new game, and I wanted in on the fun too. No one told me to go away, so I climbed the steel ladder. Once I reached the roof of the boxcar, I crawled towards an opening and peered in. There they were below, all three of them, rolling and laughing in fluffy white powder.

      “Jump in, Louise!”

      No one needed to ask me twice. I dived in and landed in a cloud of white Poof! I had never laughed so hard. To exit the train car, we squeezed through a latch opening at the bottom. Up and down. Up and down, we went. We must have played for hours.

      Eventually, my siblings decided to call it quits. What they needed now was a way to wipe off the white powder.

      “Louise, go home and ask Mom for a brush.”

      “Okay!” I skipped all the way home.

      “Mommy! We need a brush,” I chirped.

      My mother took one look at me and shrieked, “You get in here, right now!”

      Why was Mommy so angry with me? Wasn’t I helpful?

      My siblings did not return home straight away. Likely, they heard my cries and thought it best to jump in the nearby river.

      What lesson did I learn that day?

      Think twice before saying yes to any request!

       The gullible believe anything they’re told; the prudent sift

       and weigh every word.

       ~ Proverbs 14:15