Recently I read a collection of fairy tales by George MacDonald, and after sampling his tender stories, I tried composing one of my own. But while writing it, I experienced an awful emotional/intellectual conflict. My heart wanted the story to follow the familiar fairy tale
path: calamity--hopelessness--rescue--and finally--"happily
ever after." But my head protested, isn't that traditional
formula a lie, a false hope? Don't human dreams usually collapse in hopelessness with no resolution in sight? Is it really
helpful to tell feel-good stories to impressionable children when our
human history points in the opposite direction? One day as I was wrestling with these thoughts, I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit: The gospel of Jesus
Christ is the great "fairy tale" that is absolutely true!
I recalled C. S. Lewis saying that Christianity is the "true myth" of which all human myths are faint reflections. Jesus has conquered sin and death. After the suffering of his cross, he arose from the tomb to actualize a new creation. God has guaranteed that
despite all the torturous turns of our history, in the end, his
love will triumph. We see glimmers of God's restoring,
redeeming grace even now. And in the life to come, we will
be irradiated with the full glory of a new heavens and a new earth.
Every fairy tale we have ever imagined will then be made true in the
great tale that God himself has written. When my mind screams,
"there is no resolution to human sorrow in sight," I can admit, "yes, but we live by faith and not by sight." Christians are the only ones who can tell fairy tales with a straight face. The future restitution of all things is as certain as the promise of Almighty God. His predestined new world works backward to infiltrate the present darkness with brilliant beams of joy. So I will unashamedly share fairy tales with my grandchildren. That we are saved by grace to live "happily ever after," is so
true!
Crazy
Children of the Forest
Rosetta was a bouncy, blue-eyed girl with curly red locks of hair. She lived with her
grandfather and her adoring brown dog in a small stone cottage at the edge of
an evergreen forest. The grandfather had
a white beard and eyes that were always smiling. Although he was 150 years old, he never got
tired, and he loved Rosetta with all his heart.
Rosetta liked to play in the forest with her teddy bears,
building teepees for them, and collecting colorful bird feathers that fell on
the ground. One day Rosetta met a boy of
the same age who came to the woods every day to climb trees and explore caves. His name was Christopher. Rosetta showed Christopher her feathers, and
Christopher showed Rosetta how to climb his favorite tree. They told each other funny stories and
laughed until they cried.
Sometimes they met for a picnic beside a shining lake in the
middle of the woods. They ate peanut
butter cookies and watched the sparkle in each other's eyes. One evening, Rosetta took Christopher home to
meet her grandfather, and they sat with him by the fireplace drinking hot
chocolate and playing dominoes until very late. That’s where Rosetta and Christopher
promised to be best friends forever.
Then something awful happened.
They didn’t mean for it to happen.
But it did. Christopher lost his
mind and forgot his own name. He stomped
on Rosetta’s feet seven times and made her cry.
Then he ran away to a far corner of the woods to play by himself. At night he slept in a cave where nobody
could find him. He broke his promise to
be Rosetta’s best friend and didn’t recognize her anymore.
Rosetta went mad too.
She got lost in the woods and talked to herself for hours on end. She tore her hair, wore dirty clothes, and
threw rocks at Christopher whenever she saw him walking around. Sometimes they arrived by chance on opposite
sides of the lake at the same time, but instead of sharing cookies, they called
each other bad names. Then they stared
at their own reflections in the water and told themselves how nice they looked.
Rosetta and Christopher developed a continuous ringing in
their ears, so loud they could barely hear anything but their own
thoughts. They didn’t know that
Grandfather came to the forest every morning to look for them and call their
names.
You may wonder how such a dreadful thing could happen. Well, one month earlier, a wicked witch
(cleverly disguised as a kindly grand-mother) set up a pink and yellow polka
dot tent by the main forest trail. There she offered “free strawberry ice
cream” to the children who came to play.
The ice cream was really made of poison berries, not strawberries, and
anyone eating it would go crazy, but the children had no way of knowing
this. It took thirty days for the poison
to spread from the mouth to the stomach to the blood vessels, until finally it
got all the way inside their bodies and turned their hearts from red to
black. The blackness of their hearts was
the reason Christopher and Rosetta could think only about themselves and never
about each other.
After eating the poison ice cream, Rosetta searched for
Grandfather’s cottage, but couldn’t find it.
She felt exhausted. One night
she had a scary dream. In the nightmare,
she was running for her life through a jungle filled with ravenous beasts
intent on devouring her. Ugly black
crows swooped down and tried to pluck out her eyes. A deadly snake lay hissing in her path. A monstrous wolf bared his teeth and growled
hungrily as he circled round and round.
Worst of all, Christopher was laughing at her and trying to drag her
into a deep, smelly swamp! As the
nightmare rose to a climax, she heard large, heavy feet crashing through the
brush directly toward her. She tried to
escape. She flailed her arms and
screamed for help. But it was no
use. She was caught by something and
squeezed so tight she could barely breathe.
While Rosetta was having this nightmare, Christopher was also
falling into big trouble. You may
remember that he liked to explore caves.
There were some old mines dug into the hillsides that had been abandoned
long ago. Signs warned: “Danger—Keep
Out!” But Christopher didn’t pay
attention. As he was looking around
inside one of the mines, he slipped on wet rocks and tumbled head first into a
deep pit. He hit the bottom so hard it
knocked him unconscious.
When he awoke, he was covered with sticky mud and had lost his
flashlight. He couldn’t see anything,
not even his own hands or feet. He felt
the damp walls and realized they were too steep to climb to the top. He was trapped! There was just one good thing resulting from
his fall. He suddenly remembered his own
name again, and he remembered Rosetta and the promise he had made to always be
her friend, and the funny stories and cookies they used to share. He felt sad and missed her.
Christopher sat shivering in the dark and cried because he was
sure he would have to die in this forgotten mine shaft. How he wished for
one more chance to see Rosetta and tell her he was sorry.
While he was thinking about these things he felt the rush of wind and the vibration of wings beating wildly above him. A giant bald eagle flew down and grasped Christopher firmly in its talons, whisking him up and out of the dark pit. Up and up into the fresh air and bright sunlight above the forest! Triumphantly, the eagle screamed a joyful cry and carried Christopher to the place where Rosetta lay sleeping.
While he was thinking about these things he felt the rush of wind and the vibration of wings beating wildly above him. A giant bald eagle flew down and grasped Christopher firmly in its talons, whisking him up and out of the dark pit. Up and up into the fresh air and bright sunlight above the forest! Triumphantly, the eagle screamed a joyful cry and carried Christopher to the place where Rosetta lay sleeping.
Grandfather had sprinkled a secret formula of herbs and spices
on Rosetta’s head to counteract the witch’s curse. Grandfather also sent the eagle to rescue
Christopher from the mine shaft after he came to his senses. He loved them both, and as soon as he found
out about the witch’s evil plot, he had stayed up all night to plan their rescue,
and worked all day to bring them back to their right minds and arrange for a
joyful reunion.
Still, Rosetta felt confused about what her own eyes and ears seemed to be telling her. Having been trapped so long in the grip of a bad dream, it was hard to believe anything else. Maybe the harmless stick was a serpent after all, she thought. And how could she be sure the boy who used to stomp on her toes and call her bad names wasn’t just pretending to care for her now?
Rosetta finally tried to stand up, but it was no use. Her arms and legs refused to move. In fact, she was paralyzed from the neck
down. Grandfather’s magic, while
awakening her from the nightmare, had a tragic side-effect. Even more magic would be needed. Huge tears began running down her cheeks as
she cried, “Help me!” Christopher saw
her plight and quickly scooped her up in his arms. He carried Rosetta all the way to the cottage
where Grandfather tenderly bathed her, dressed her in clean clothes and laid
her in her own soft bed. Christopher
also took a warm bath and put on clean clothes.
Then Grandfather prepared a feast for the hungry children. Christopher held the spoon so Rosetta could
eat. Then he sang her love songs and fed
her peanut butter cookies until the sun came up in the morning.
All this time, Rosetta and Christopher looked at the sparkle
in each other’s eyes. Finally, Rosetta was
sure that the lovely birds, and friendly old dog, and her caring friend were
more real than her long nightmare. They forgave each other then and there, and
promised to be best friends again.
Christopher and Grandfather took care of Rosetta for many months until
her body was healed and her strength returned.
And they lived happily ever after.
