brother tadhg

Story: The Old Lion And The Fox

Here's an interesting story:

An old Lion, whose teeth and claws were so worn that it was not so easy for him to get food as in his younger days, pretended that he was sick. It served him well. He looked like a noble beast, albeit not too well. And, he took care to let all his neighbors know about it, and then lay down in his cave to wait for visitors.

Many creatures visited the old lion. One day, the fox came too, but he was very cautious about visiting the old lion.  Standing at a safe distance from the cave, he inquired politely after the lion's health. The lion replied that he was very ill indeed, and asked the Fox to step in for a moment. But the fox very wisely stayed outside, thanking the Lion very kindly for the invitation.

"I should be glad to do as you ask," the fox added, "but I have noticed that there are many footprints leading into your cave, but none coming out. Pray tell me, how do your visitors find their way out again?"

The lion became angry at the fox, having been denied his evening meal. Be wise, like the fox.

[Author: Aesop]

 

Tadhg Jonathan is a seanachie, a story-teller. For more information see: http://www.caolait.org/celebrant

Story: Letting Go!

I once heard this story:

Two monks were on a journey, returning to their monastery, and talking intently. It had rained heavily, and the stream that they came upon, was swollen and the water was faster running than usual

At one place a beautiful young woman was standing by the stream, unable to get across it. The elder of the two monks went up to a her lifted her onto his back, walked into the stream to the other side, and left her there, and the two monks continued on their way to the monastery. But now the conversation between them had stopped.

In the evening the younger monk came to the elder monk and said, "Sir, as monks, isn't it correct that we cannot touch a woman?"

The elder monk answered, " Yes, Brother, that's correct".

Then the younger monk said, "Then I'm aghast at how you lifted that woman and carried her across that stream earlier today."
 
The elder monk smiled at him, and replied," I carried her across that stream and all it took was several minutes. I left her on the other side of the road hours ago, but you have been carrying her ever since."

  

Tadhg Jonathan is a seanachie, a story-teller. For more information see: http://www.caolait.org/celebrant

Story: The Golden Thread

Here's an interesting story:

Once there was a boy called Peter. He was a strong, able boy, but he did not enjoy going to school and he was forever daydreaming.

"Peter, what are you dreaming about this time?" his teacher would say to him.

"I'm thinking about what I'll be when I grow up," Peter replied.

"Be patient. There's plenty of time for that. Being grown up isn't all fun, you know," his teacher said.

But Peter found it hard to enjoy whatever he was doing at the moment. In winter he longed for it to be summer again, and in summer he looked forward to the skating, sledging, and warm fires of winter. At school he would long for the day to be over so that he could go home, and on Sunday nights he would sigh, "If only the holidays would come."

Often he would wander through the forest, day-dreaming of the future. Sometimes he would lay down on the soft forest floor in the warm sun, his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky through the distant treetops. One hot afternoon as he began to grow sleepy, he heard someone calling his name. He opened his eyes and sat up. Standing before him was an old woman, and  in her hand she held a silver ball, from which dangled a silken golden thread.

"See what I have got here, Peter," she said, offering the ball to him.

"What is it?" he asked curiously, touching the fine golden thread.

"This is your life thread," the old woman replied. "Do not touch it and time will pass normally. But if you wish time to pass more quickly, you have only to pull the thread a little way and an hour will pass like a second. But I warn you, once the thread has been pulled out, it cannot be pushed back in again.

Peter took the gift from her joyfully. It was just what he wanted. He put the ball in his pocket and ran home.

The following day at school, Peter sat day-dreaming about what he would do with his magic thread. The teacher scolded him for not concentrating. If only, he thought, it was time to go home. Then he felt the silver ball in his pocket.  Very carefully he took hold of it and tugged. Suddenly the teacher was telling everyone to pack up their books and to leave the classroom for the day. Peter was overjoyed. He ran all the way home. How easy life would be now! All his troubles were over. From that day forth he began to pull the thread, just a little, every day.

One day, however, it occurred to him that it was stupid to pull the thread just a little each day. If he gave it a harder tug, school would be over altogether. Then he could start learning a trade. So that night he gave the thread a hard tug, and in the morning he awoke to find himself apprenticed to a carpenter in town. He loved his new life, clambering about on roofs and scaffolding, lifting and hammering great beams into place that still smelled of the forest. But sometimes, when payday seemed too far off, he gave the thread a little tug and suddenly the week was drawing to a close and it was Friday night and he had money in his pocket.

Peter began to grow impatient for the day when they would be married. He took the magic ball, and for a moment he hesitated; then his impatience got the better of him, and he tugged at the golden thread. In the morning he awoke to find that the year was over and their beside him was his young wife. Now Peter felt truly happy.

A few months later Peter's wife announced that she was going to have a child. Peter was overjoyed and could hardly wait. When the child was born, he felt that he could never want for anything again. But whenever the child was ill or cried through the sleepless night, he gave the thread a little tug, just so that the baby might be well and happy again.

Times were hard, and so Peter gave the golden thread another tug. Years flex by and he 'discovered' that he had yet more children.

As the number of his children grew, so his house became more overcrowded. He would have to extend it, but for that he needed money. He had other worries too. His mother was looking older and more tired every day. It was of no use to pull the magic thread because that would only hasten her approaching death. All too soon she died, and as Peter stood at her graveside, he wondered how it was that life passed so quickly, even without pulling the magic thread.

One night as he lay in bed, kept awake by his worries, he thought how much easier life would be if all his children were grown up and launched upon their careers in life. He gave the thread a mighty tug, and the following day he awoke to find that his children had all left home for jobs in different parts of the country, and that he and his wife were alone.

His hair was almost white now and often his back and limbs ached as he climbed the ladder or lifted a heavy beam into place. His wife, too, was getting older and she was often ill. He couldn't bear to see her suffer, so that more and more he resorted to pulling at the magic thread. But as soon as one trouble was solved, another seemed to grow in its place. Perhaps life would be easier if he retired, Peter thought. Then he would no longer have to clamber about on drafty, half-completed buildings and he could look after wife when she was ill. The trouble was that he didn't have enough money to live on. He picked up his magic ball and looked at it. To his dismay he saw that the thread was no longer silver, but gray. He decided to go for a walk in the forest to think things over.

It was a long time since he had been in that part of the forest. The small saplings had all grown into tall fir trees, and it was hard to find the path he had once known. Eventually he came to a bench in a clearing. He sat down to rest and fell into a light doze. He was woken by someone calling his name, "Peter! Peter!" He looked up and saw the old woman he had met so many years ago when she had given him the magic silver ball with its golden thread. She looked just as she had on that day, not a day older. She smiled at him.

"So, Peter, have you had a good life?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Peter said. "Your magic ball is a wonderful thing. I have never had to suffer or wait for anything in my life. And yet it has all passed so quickly. I feel that I have had no time to appreciate, understand and enjoy what has happened to me, neither the good things nor the bad. Now I feel there is so little time left, and I have regrets. I dare not pull the thread again for it will only bring me to my death. I do not think your gift has brought me peace of mind."

"How ungrateful you are!" the old woman said. "In what way would you have wished things to be different?"

"Perhaps if you had given me a different ball, one where I could have pushed the thread back in as well as pulling it out. Then I could have relived the things that went badly."

The old woman laughed. "You ask a great deal! Do you think that God allows us to live our lives twice over? But I can grant you one final wish."

"What is that?" Peter asked.

"Choose," the old woman said. Peter thought hard.

At length he said, "I should like to live my life again as if for the first time, but without your magic ball. Then I will experience the bad things as well as the good without cutting them short, and at least my life will not pass as swiftly and meaninglessly as a daydream."

She stretched out her hand, and Peter placed the silver ball in it. Then he sat back and closed his eyes with exhaustion. When he awoke he was in his own bed. His youthful mother was bending over him, shaking him gently.

"Wake up, Peter. You will be late for school', his mother said.  He looked up at her in surprise and relief.

As Peter walked to school, he noticed what a bright summer morning it was, the kind of morning when it felt good to be alive. Soon he would see his friends and classmates, and even the prospect of lessons didn't seem so bad. In fact he could hardly wait.

 
 

Tadhg Jonathan is a seanachie, a story-teller. For more information see: http://www.caolait.org/celebrant

The Wisdom Of 'Gam Zeh Ya'avor'

Every year millions of people make their resolutions. At that time: new year' eve, or maybe on their birthday or the time of an anniversary many look back. Some have happy thoughts, or some with sorrowful thoughts of ailments or bereavements suffered. And then look towards what the future might hold, and make their resolutions.

What consolation can be offered those who have undergone tough times in the last year or who might still be undergoing tough times? What can be said to those who have had a good, previous, year, or who might still be having a great time?

Here is a story that offers words of wisdom:

One day King Solomon decided to humble Benaiah, his most trusted minister. He said to him, 'Benaiah, I am told there is a certain magic ring, and I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for great Feast which gives you six months to find it.'

'If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty,' replied Benaiah, 'I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?'

'It has magic powers. If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy.' Solomon replied. Solomon knew that no such ring existed in the world, but he wished to give his minister a little taste of humility. Spring passed and then summer, and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring.

On the night before the great Feast, Benaiah decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day's wares on a old carpet. 'Have you by any chance heard of a magic ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?' asked Benaiah. He watched the old man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it.

When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile. That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday of the great Feast with great rejoicing. 'Well, my friend,' said Solomon, 'have you found what I sent you after?' All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.

To everyone's surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, 'Here it is, your majesty!' As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweller had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: gimel, zayin, yud, which began the words 'Gam zeh ya'avor', meaning 'This too shall pass.'

 

At that moment Solomon realised that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust.

You see, we look back in time, we look forward and imagine, in time, what night be! We use time, we mark time, we kill time, we assume things will always stay the same, or at least we hope so. But it won't. That sounds negative, but it isn't. If we're honest we know things change. Ofcourse, my prayer for you is that if you're having a great time, that it continues for a long(er) time. But, things do change.

Bearing in mind the story. If we're having a great time - then rejoice and accept it, and give God thanks, now. Revel in the good times, learn from it, enjoy it. It will pass. Knowing this, will encourage us to be grateful and not to take things for granted.

If we've had a tough year or maybe still are having a tough time - then rejoice, now, for the wisdom encapsulated in that story declares that it too will pass. Knowing this will give us hope, the hope of change, it will give us encouragement and positivity. Nothing, except God, on this earth stays the same.

It's like this:

1. When things are going well, rejoice,  for 'this too shall pass', and tough times may arise. See 2 below

2. When things are tough, rejoice, for 'this too shall pass', and better times may arise. See 3 below

3. Go back to 1 above.

'Behind' this wisdom, behind it all is the all-powerful God who is outside time and yet within, and has mastery over  it. So, whatever you are experiencing do take to heart the wisdom of 'gam zeh ya'avor': this too shall pass.

 
 

Tadhg Jonathan is a seanachai, a story-teller, and also organises sessions called 'telling places' which deal with healing, growth and maturity through story-telling, For more information about his seanachai or story-telling activities, see: http://www.caolait.org/celebrant or see: http://www.caolait.org/tellingplaces

The Story Of Babushka: A Christmas Folktale

There's a great Christmas story that's told in Russia about this time of the year. It's about an elderly woman called Babushka, and you'll love it - I hope. Check it out.

Once in a small Russian town, there lived an elderly women called Babushka. Babushka always had chores to do around the house: sweeping, polishing, dusting, cleaning, cooking etc. Her chores were endless. She was so house-proud. Her house was the best kept house in the whole village. Her garden was beautifully laid out and her cooking was loved by all who tasted it.

One evening she was busying herself about the house, dusting and cleaning, and was so pre-occupied that she didn't hear clearly all the villagers outside in the village square talking excitedly and looking at the new star in sky - she just heard a commotion in the distance.

She had heard a rumour about a new star but thought, 'All this fuss about a star! I don't even have the time to look because I'm so behind with my housework. I must work, and work all night!' So, she missed the star as it shone brightly, overhead. She also missed the little line of twinkling lights coming down towards the village at dawn. She also didn't hear the sounds of the pipes and drums. She missed the voices and whispers of the villagers wondering whether the lights were an army or a procession of some sort. She missed the sudden quiet of the villagers, awestruck at what they say, and didn't even hear the footsteps coming up the path to her door. But the one thing that she couldn't miss was the loud knocking on her front door!

Knock! Knock! Knock!

'Now what?' she grumbled angrily, opening the door. Babushka gasped in amazement. There were three kings at her door. One of the servants with these three kings said, 'My masters need a place to rest, and yours is the best house in the village.'

'You want to stay here?' asked Babushka. 'Yes, it would only be until night falls and the new star appears again,' the servant replied. Babushka gulped. 'Come in, then,' she said.

The kings were very pleased when they saw all of the home-baked bread, pies and cakes. Babushka dashed about, serving them, asking them lots of questions. 'Have you come a long way?' 'A very long way,' sighed Caspar. 'Where are you going?' , she queried. 'We're following the new star,' said Melchior. 'But where?' Babushka asked. The kings didn't know, but they believed that it would lead them to a new-born king, a King of Earth and Heaven. 'Why don't you come with us?' asked Balthasar. 'You could bring him a gift like we do. I bring gold, and my colleagues bring spices and perfumes.'

'Oh, I'm not sure that he would welcome me,' said Babushka, 'and what could I bring for a gift? Toys! I know, I could bring a toy. I've got a cupboard full of neatly stacked of toys,' she said sadly. 'My baby son, died when he was small.' Balthasar stopped her as she started to tidy the kitchen up. 'This new king could be your king too. Come with us when the new star appears tonight,' he said.

'I'll think about it,' sighed Babushka.

As the kings slept, Babushka continued to tidy up as quietly as she could. 'What a lot of extra work there was!' she thought, 'and this new-born king, what a funny idea to leave everything to go and look for him.'

Babushka shook herself. There was no time for day-dreaming. All the washing-up needeed drying and putting away. 'Anyway,' she thought, 'how long would she be away? What would she wear? What about the gift?' she sighed. 'There was so much to do. The house will have to be cleaned when the kings have gone. I couldn't just leave it uncleaned.' she whsipered to herself.

Suddenly it was night-time again and the new star was in the sky. 'Are you ready, Babushka?' asked Balthasar. 'I'll come tomorrow,' Babushka called, 'I must just tidy here first and find a gift.'

The kings went away, rather saddened that Babushka had decided not to travel with them to see the new-born king. Babushka ran back into her house, keen to get on with her work.

Finally, some hours later she went to the small cupboard, opened the door and gazed at all the toys. But they were very dusty. They weren't fit for a baby king. They would all need to be cleaned. She cleaned all of the toys until each one sparkled. Babushka looked through the window. It was morning! The star had come and gone. The kings would have found somewhere else to rest by now, she thought. She could easily catch them up, but she felt so tired from all the extra work. She had to sleep. The next thing she knew, she was awake and it was dark outside. She had slept all day! She quickly pulled on her cloak, packed the toys in a basket and ran down the path the kings had taken. This was extremely difficult, the snow had covered up their tracks.

Everywhere she went Babushka asked 'Have you seen the kings?' 'Oh yes,' everyone told her, 'we saw them. They went that way.' For days Babushka searched for the kings, and the villages got bigger and became towns. But Babushka never stopped. Then she came to a city. 'The palace,' she thought. 'That's where the royal baby would be born.' 'No, there is no royal baby here,' said the palace guard when she asked him. 'What about three kings?' asked Babushka. 'Oh yes, they came here, but they didn't stay long. They were soon on their journey.' the guard said. 'But where to?' asked Babushka. 'Bethlehem' he said, 'that was the place. I can't imagine why. It's a very poor place. That's where they went.' he said.

She set off towards Bethlehem. It was evening when Babushka arrived at Bethlehem and she had been travelling for a long time. She went into the local inn and asked about the kings. 'Oh yes,' said the landlord, 'the kings were here two days ago. They were very excited, but they didn't even stay the night.' 'And what about a baby?' Babushka cried. 'Yes there was a baby.' Said the landlord. The kings asked about a baby, too.' When he saw the disappointment in Babushka's eyes, he stopped. 'If you'd like to see where the baby was,' he said quickly, 'it was across the yard there. I couldn't offer the couple anything better at the time. My inn was really full, so they had to go in the stable.' Babushka followed him across the yard. 'Here's the stable,' he said. He left her in the stable.

'Babushka?'

Someone was calling her from the doorway. He looked kindly at her. She wondered if he knew where the family had gone. She knew now that the baby king was the most important thing in the world to her. 'They have gone on a long journey, to a place of safety,' he told Babushka. 'And the kings have returned to their countries. But one of them told me about you. I am sorry but you are too late. It was Jesus that they found, the world's Saviour, and He's gone.'

Babushka was very sad that she had missed Jesus, and it is said that Babushka is still looking for him, leaving presents beside every baby at this time of year, just in case it's Baby Jesus.

Tadhg Jonathan organises TellingPlace events where stories can be told and heard, and all can participate. For more information see: http://www.caolait.org/tellingplaces. He is also a seanachai, and for more information about this, do check: http://www.caolait.org/seanachai