Chapter
1
Ornament of Dreams and
Dreams of Ornaments
Chris wiped the fog from
a window and peered outside. Under a gloomy sky, ice-coated tree branches
clattered like skeletons in the harsh wind.
“Please, Mom,”
he begged. “Can I go out and play?”
“I’ve already
told you no,” she said.
“Aw, you never let
me do anything!” he complained.
“We’re in the
middle of an ice storm!”
“But Mom, I’m
bored. Please, just for a little while.”
“Not in that deep freeze.
You’ll catch your death of cold. I don’t want to hear another
word!”
Chris hung his head and
grumbled to himself, “There must be a law against having fun in
this dumb place.”
“Ha, ha,” his
sister Laura whispered. “I told you you’d have to stay inside.
If you’re good, though, I’ll let you play house with me.”
Chris glared at her and
yelled, “Mom, make Laura stop!” Then he muttered, “I
can’t think of anything more boring than playing house with a goofy
girl.”
“That is enough,”
Mom scolded. “You children stop arguing this minute, or you’re
going to your rooms.”
Chris looked out the window.
“When will Dad be home?” he asked.
“Your father said he’d
stop and get more lights for the Christmas tree. That old string on
the bottom branch has burned out for the tenth time.” Mother puttered
about in the kitchen, trying to get dinner on the table. “I hope
he doesn’t buy more ornaments. The poor tree is so loaded now it’s
ready to topple over! I hate to think what one more ornament might do.”
Suddenly a car door slammed. “Oh, good, that must be him.”
Chris and Laura darted to
the door as Dad, bundled in a heavy coat and overloaded with shopping
bags, pushed through it. The children latched like monkeys onto his
arms, and Mom rushed to shut out the cold. After Dad set down the bags,
the children began rummaging through them.
“The weather is awful,”
he said as he took off his cap and shook it. “Looks as though we’ll
be iced in over Christmas. It’s a good thing we bought groceries,
or we’d be in big trouble.”
“Did you remember the
lights?” Mom asked.
“Of course,” said
Dad. “But I’ll have to take the ornaments off the tree to
replace those old lights. What a mess that will be.”
“Speaking of ornaments,”
said Mom. “You didn’t...”
“Didn’t what?”
“Buy any more?”
Dad blushed as Laura lifted
the evidence from the bag.
“Look, Mom! Isn’t
it pretty?”
“You really are something,”
Mom said. “When it comes to decorating for Christmas, you’re
worse than a child!”
“But I couldn’t
pass it up.” Dad sounded like an excited boy. He took a beautiful
but tarnished golden angel from Laura and held it up. “This is
a rare jewel. I found it in that old Christmas shop in the village.
I really tried hard to resist the urge to enter the shop. But something
kept calling me, ‘Come in, come in the shop.’ I swear this
ornament was calling me from inside.”
Mom smiled as Dad continued.
“In the shop sat an old man who looked like Santa Claus. He must
have hypnotized me. Before I knew it, I was paying him for this magic
ornament.”
“Magic, indeed,”
Mother scolded. “Stop that now! You’ll confuse the children.”
“Is it really magic,
Daddy?” Laura wanted to know.
“Don’t get your
father started,” said Mom. “Come, dinner is ready.”
“Mom’s right,”
Dad admitted. “Dinner first, then I’ll tell you more.”
After dinner, the children
jumped up from the table and ran to the sofa. Dad picked up the angel
ornament and sat between them.
“This has a name,”
he said. “It’s Gabriel’s Magic
Ornament, and there’s
not another like it in the world.”
“How do you know?”
Laura asked.
“Believe me, I know,”
Dad answered seriously. “The shopkeeper who looked like Santa Claus
told me. Merchants from Israel sold it to him, and they got it from
an old, old, old church in the little town of Bethlehem.”
Mom rolled her eyes in disbelief.
“An old, old, old church?”
teased Chris.
“In the little town
of Bethlehem,” Laura added and tried to make her voice sound like
an opera singer as she belted out “O little town of Bethlehem.”
“Make fun if you want,”
said Dad, “I just won’t tell you the rest of the story.”
“We’re sorry,
Dad,” Laura piped up. “Please tell us the rest.”
“Very well,” said
Dad. “This angel ornament has decorated the Christmas trees of
many famous people.”
“Such as?” asked
Laura.
“Emperors and Kings.”
“Emperors and Kings?”
Chris blurted. “That’s really interesting, Dad, but how did
such a famous ornament wind up here?”
Laura could hardly contain
a snicker.
“Now, children,” said Mother. “Don’t be so hard
on your father.”
“Thank you,” said
Dad, pretending to be offended. “I’ll say it again—Emperors
and Kings.”
“Then the ornament
must be expensive,” said Chris. “How much did it cost?”
Mom turned her head toward
Dad, who caught a glimpse of her face out of the corner of his eye.
“Well... I’d rather
not say,” and quickly he changed the subject. “Anyway, the
old shopkeeper claimed the ornament was made from gold brought by the
Wise Man, Balthazar, to the Christ Child.”
“Did the Wise Man make
it?” asked Laura.
“No. It was made by
the Bishop of Myra.”
“Mentioning the Bishop
of Myra is very convincing, Dad,” said Laura, “but who is
he?”
“I don’t know,”
Dad answered. “However, the shopkeeper said the ornament was magic
because the Bishop of Myra made it.”
“All right, Dad,”
said Laura. “Let’s see what this magic ornament can do.”
“First, you have to
hang it on the tree.” Dad responded.
“Whoever hangs it will
have an exciting Christmas dream! The strange thing is that the ornament
disappears once the dream is over and then mysteriously appears in the
old church in Bethlehem where it came from. The merchants who sold it
to the shopkeeper claimed this has happened hundreds of times.”
“Please, Dad, can I
hang it?” asked Laura.
“No, I want to do it!”
shouted Chris.
“Don’t argue,
children. You both can hang it,” Dad said as he walked over to
the tree. “Laura, you hold on to one wing. Chris, you hold on to
the other. Hang the ornament on that bottom branch.”
The moment the angel ornament
touched the tree, everything went black. A burst of light then flashed
and Chris and Laura jerked their hands away but could not get loose.
An angel, terrifying yet beautiful, held onto them. Although they struggled
to break free, they were caught, helpless.
“Please let us go!”
shouted Laura.
They felt themselves being sucked downward. As they fell, they screamed
and clutched each other. Lightning flashed and thunder roared. When
the children looked up they saw layers of the tree’s branches begin
to turn into roads. Pine needles piled up to form hills and valleys.
Strings of lights became bridges that crossed great gorges, connecting
lower roads to higher ones.
“Chris! We’re
going to hit bottom! We’re going to die!”
“Hang on, Laura! Pray
there’s someone down there to catch us!”
The roads, hills, and valleys
expanded until—plop—the children landed in their midst. They
looked for the angel, but he had vanished. The children stood up, uninjured
but shaken by their fall. Low hills and valleys stretched before them.
Above were lacy, greenish clouds with brown paths running through them,
but the clouds did not drift the way normal clouds do.
“We must be in the
Twilight Zone,” remarked Chris.
“Or the Land of Oz,”
said Laura.
Just then they heard some commotion.
“Let’s check it
out,” Chris said.
“I’m afraid,”
cried Laura.
“Oh, come on,”
Chris urged. “There’s something in the road. Looks like a
pig and a dog.”
“What are they carrying?”
asked Laura.
“Looks like baskets
of apples,” Chris ventured. “Oh, no, now they’re fighting.
Look at them go! Maybe we can help.”
Suddenly, lightning flashed
across the scene.
“Oh, no,” cried
Chris. “The storm is back.”
They fell to the ground
and covered their heads. Then, slowly and quietly, a deep fog formed
around them. Laura reached for Chris’s hand.
“It’s spooky,”
she cried.
“Be quiet,” Chris
urged, “don’t move.” As though it were aflame, the air
around them grew brighter until out of the glow walked a Lady, the fairest
they’d ever seen. Her flowing dress was sky blue, and on her head
was a Christmas wreath with twelve burning candles.
“Don’t be afraid,
children. I’m here to guide you,” she said.
“Who are you?”
Laura asked.
“Call me Lady. I am
your friend, and I’ve come to lead you safely through Arboria,
our name for Christmas Tree Land.”
“That could explain
the pig and the dog we saw,” said Laura. “Could they be Fat
Pig and Old Mutt? They are those Christmas ornaments Aunt Pearl and
Uncle Bert gave us.”
“But they’re as
big as we are. Have we shrunk or something? Tell us how we got here,”
Chris asked Lady.
“You should know,”
she said. “You placed the magic ornament on the tree. Your Christmas
dream has begun.”
“Dad was right!”
exclaimed Laura. “The story about Gabriel’s Magic Ornament
is true!”
“Indeed, it is. And
soon you will begin your journey. You must be brave and courageous.
Only then will you see the evil in Arboria end.”
“Evil? In Christmas
Tree Land?” asked Chris.
“Have you forgotten
that all the lights on the bottom branch have burned out?” asked
Lady. “In Arboria, Christmas lights are angel stars. They guide
the people of Arboria and protect them from danger. But also in Arboria
there’s a villain called Lesnit. Lesnit eats angel stars because
light is his favorite food. Most of all, he wants to eat the brightest
star that burns above all Arboria, the Star at Tree Top.”
“That’s terrible,”
said Laura.
“Stoop down. Feel how
dry the ground is.”
They did as Lady directed.
“That, too, is Lesnit’s
doing. As he passes through Arboria, he sucks water from the tree branches.
Arboria is drying up because of him. If it caught fire, he no doubt
would be very happy.”
“What a wicked thing
to do,” said Laura.
“You must be very careful
to stay out of his way,” Lady cautioned.
“How can we do that
when we don’t know what he looks like?” asked Chris.
“He is hard to describe,”
said Lady. “He is a dark, terrible creature with many faces. Some
are pleasant. Some are too horrible to look at. Sometimes he wears beautiful
masks, but under these lurks the awful dragon of the night, a pitch-black
serpent of darkness that comes from the wilderness beneath Arboria.
This creature has many names. Lesnit is only one of them. His disguises
make it easy for him to creep through the branches of Arboria undetected,
and because he’s eaten so many angel stars, the Orna folk cannot
reach Tree Top now.”
“The Orna folk?”
inquired Laura.
“In your world you
know them as Christmas ornaments. The Orna are beautiful but fragile
beings with thin skin and hollow hearts. Their hearts are empty and
hopeless because Lesnit has ended their chances of escape from the lower
branches of Arboria by blocking roads and destroying bridges that lead
to Tree Top.”
“Surely there is a
way to stop him,” remarked Chris. “If I see him, I’ll
beat his ugly head in.”
“That will not stop
him,” Lady said. “If anything it will only make him stronger.”
“Then what can stop
him?” asked Laura.
“Only a grandchild
of Eva Isha Adams, the woman who originally let Lesnit out of a bag
he was in.”
“Why did she do such
a thing? That wasn’t smart,” Laura remarked.
“I don’t think
she realized what she had done until it was too late. You have heard
of Pandora’s box, haven’t you?”
“Yes,” answered
Laura. “Pandora opened a box with evil things inside it.”
“She wasn’t supposed
to open it, but she was curious,” Lady continued. “When she
lifted its lid, the evils escaped. Curiosity got the better of Eva Isha
Adams, too. She couldn’t wait until Christmas day to find out what
was in the bag. She convinced her husband that it would be all right
to peek, but when they did, they let Lesnit out. They did this despite
the warnings of Tree King. I know that Eva and her husband wouldn’t
have done it if only they had known how bad things would get. They should
have listened to Tree King.”
“Who is Tree King?”
Chris asked Lady.
“He’s the one who caused Arboria to grow from nothing. His
dwelling is inside the Star at Tree Top. Tree King is kind and good
but also mysterious. No one has ever seen him or ever will. Not even
myself.”
“Perhaps he will figure
out a way to stop Lesnit,” said Laura.
“If anyone can, Tree
King can,” Lady replied. “But the time has to be right, and
the grandchild of Eva Isha Adams must be ready to help when that time
comes.”
“I must leave you for
now,” said Lady. “But before I go, I must warn you. If you
get hungry, do not eat the apples here in Arboria.”
“Why not?” asked
Chris.
“They are poisonous,”
warned Lady. “Every time Lesnit devours an angel star, he hiccups
and an apple pops out of his mouth. They look delicious, but they never
satisfy hunger the way apples usually do. You become hungrier with each
bite. You want more and more of them, but they will never fill you up.”
“How very strange,”
Laura remarked. “We promise not to eat any.”
“Good,” said Lady.
“One more thing—stay away from the mistletoe. It also is Lesnit’s
work. Wherever he spits, mistletoe grows. While beautiful to look at,
its white berries are deadly. The mistletoe destroys the good things
of Arboria. It gives nothing in return but harms whatever it touches.
So beware its dark, magic spell.” After these words, Lady turned
and walked back into the swirling fog.
“We’ll be careful,”
shouted Laura, watching and waving good-bye as the fog slowly lifted.
