This is my very, very Merry Christmas message to all of you. Thank you for continuing to read my essays, no matter how dark or terrifying you often tell me they are—albeit also inspiring and thought-provoking (thank goodness).
This is a little Christmas story for you all, although you can expect another essay soon…
Years upon years ago I wrote and illustrated The Rumpoles and the Barleys series, published with Harvest House Publishers. The last book in the series was Christmas at Rumpole Mansion. Sadly, the books are out of print now, but who knows, maybe one day people will realize we need more books like this, reminding children of long-gone days before they got sucked into I-Phones, when teaching children about right and wrong, honesty, courage and forgiveness were considered valuable endeavors.
So, here’s Christmas at Rumpole Mansion in a nutshell, along with a few of my watercolor paintings.
Crispy, crunchy, Christmasy snow covers the eaves and window ledges of the old Rumpole Mansion. Way up in the attic, cozy and warm, live the Rumpole mice. “Hurry!” squeaks Prunells as she grabs her wooly mittens. “Race you down the drainpipe,” she yells to her brother, Eustace. Off they go to play with their friends, the Barley children.
Eustace and Prunella are having a snowball fight with their friends when an old rat appears, hunched beneath a load of twigs. Zowie! Dagwood’s snowball smacks the rat right between the ears.
Although Dagwood tries to help the old rat pick up the sticks that have fallen, he tells Dagwood and the others, “Go away and leave me alone!” The children decide to follow the mean old rat to see where he lives.
To their chagrin, they discover that he has moved into the basement of their very own home, the Rumpole Mansion! A sign on the door says “Mr. Scratchly, no visitors, positively NONE.”
The children scamper back to the Rumpole attic, and quickly forget about Mr. Scratchly. They are so excited for Christmas to come.
Mama Rumpole is preparing delicious apple pies and all sorts of other scrumptious goodies for Christmas dinner on the morrow.
Unable to sleep that night, an excited Eustace looks out the window at the moon and the stars, and the shimmering snow below.
Eustace sees a stooped figure, looking up at the moon, too. To his surprise, he realizes it’s Mr. Scratchly. He doesn’t look at all ferocious, thinks Eustace. Suddenly, the little mouse gets an idea. He takes his favorite scarf and wraps it up. Then, he writes a note inviting Mr. Scratchly to Christmas dinner. Clutching the box and the note, he hops out the window, slithers down the drainpipe, and leaves his gift outside Mr. Scratchly’s door.
Soon enough, Eustace is back in his bed and fast asleep.
On Christmas morning, Eustace wonders if he did the right thing inviting Mr. Scratchly. Why, oh why, did he give the old rat his favorite scarf? What if he really does shows up and ruins everyone’s Christmas by being horrible?
Next moment, there is a knock at the door and when Mama Rumpole opens it, there’s Mr. Scratchly, wearing the scarf and holding Eustace’s invitation. “I was, ahem, invited to Christmas dinner,” he says.
Everyone greets Mr. Scratchly kindly. Pansy Barley leads him to the chair closest to the fire. Prunells tucks a blanket around his knees. And Eustace brings him a steaming cup of tea.
Seeing how happy everyone is, Eustace feels happy, too. He knows he did the right thing by giving up his favorite scarf and inviting Mr. Scratchly to Christmas dinner.
Eustace learns an important lesson: It is more blessed to give than to receive.
The End.
The times are fraught with uncertainty. Let's do what we can to set the worries aside and enjoy this holiday season, gathering strength for what lies ahead.
My best wish for Christmas is for all of you to keep on reading my essays and for more people to become aware of them.
Please let me know in the comments below which essay is your favorite. I’m curious to find out. Then, if you could, please share that essay far and wide, on Twitter, Gab, Facebook, in emails, or anywhere else you can think of. Encourage others to read, share and subscribe. It’s free.
Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Holidays—or whatever else you do or do not celebrate. My writing is for everyone.
God bless and keep you in the coming year. May we all stay thankful, hopeful, determined and courageous.
Welp, that surely was a surprise. I had no idea, based on your essays, that you also wrote AND illustrated childrens books. You are obviously freakishly talented and unnaturally heterodox and, thus, will be among the first they send to the gulag when they come for us all.
I know you're not looking for flattery, but if you were, I'd tell you that I really enjoy your writing, in fact I get lost in your essays when you publish them. They are very intense. There is much in your upbringing that I can relate to, and much in your adventures, too. I may not have been to the same places, but I've been to many similar places, and your insights are familiar, even if your adventures are different.
Strangely, I don't know if I've ever shared one of your essays, and I apologize. I'll make the effort to, going forward. In a strange way, I like to keep your writing to myself, like I used to keep small things in my cigar box when I was a kid.
I do love your watercolors! I wish I could do that. I think stories and illustrations like these are foundational, and without them in our past, we're not sufficiently armed and protected for our present and future world.
Too long, I know. I promise to be a better fan in the future.
Awww, Karen… Thank you for sharing! My Christmas wish is that your books would be available for purchase, once again. I know many young children being homeschooled in my tiny Canadian town who would benefit from this simple, biblical wisdom presented in such a charming manner. God bless you and Merry Christmas ❤️🙏🏻🙌🏻
Welp, that surely was a surprise. I had no idea, based on your essays, that you also wrote AND illustrated childrens books. You are obviously freakishly talented and unnaturally heterodox and, thus, will be among the first they send to the gulag when they come for us all.
I know you're not looking for flattery, but if you were, I'd tell you that I really enjoy your writing, in fact I get lost in your essays when you publish them. They are very intense. There is much in your upbringing that I can relate to, and much in your adventures, too. I may not have been to the same places, but I've been to many similar places, and your insights are familiar, even if your adventures are different.
Strangely, I don't know if I've ever shared one of your essays, and I apologize. I'll make the effort to, going forward. In a strange way, I like to keep your writing to myself, like I used to keep small things in my cigar box when I was a kid.
I do love your watercolors! I wish I could do that. I think stories and illustrations like these are foundational, and without them in our past, we're not sufficiently armed and protected for our present and future world.
Too long, I know. I promise to be a better fan in the future.
Awww, Karen… Thank you for sharing! My Christmas wish is that your books would be available for purchase, once again. I know many young children being homeschooled in my tiny Canadian town who would benefit from this simple, biblical wisdom presented in such a charming manner. God bless you and Merry Christmas ❤️🙏🏻🙌🏻