Summary: Ben finds that trying to spend quality time during the Christmas season with Adam and Hoss can be challenging.
Rating: G Words 2140
Written for the 2022 Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar

Bonanza
~*~*~ Advent Calendar ~*~*~
* Day 10 

Steadfast

“Is Little Joe asleep?”

“Oui, mon cher, at least for now.”

“Perfect, I have the book. Would you mind asking Adam and Hoss to come downstairs?”

Ben rubbed his hand together in satisfaction. This was going to be great. It was nearly Christmas, and he hadn’t had much time to spend with Adam and Hoss that wasn’t contaminated with chores and homework or interrupted by a demanding toddler. He had just the thing to remedy the situation.

When the boys and Marie joined him in their accustomed seats in front of the fireplace, Ben took the rare opportunity to show off —just a little—at the treat he’d prepared.

“Boys, family time is important.  I know a lot has been going on, and sometimes things don’t always go as planned.”

“Pa, are we in trouble?”

“No, Hoss, no one is in trouble.  Why would you think such a thing?”

“Experience?” muttered Adam. Hmmm, this was going to be one of those nights, was it? Were thirteen-year-olds ever cheerful? Ignoring the comment was probably the wisest choice.

“In fact,” Ben continued in a tone cheerful enough for everyone, “a special book arrived today. I thought that I could read one of the stories tonight, and if everyone agreed, we’d keep reading the book until Christmas.”

“Pa, I know how to read, and I’m too old for a bedtime story.”

“You hush up, Adam!” Hoss erupted with a shout that had Marie shushing him for fear of waking Little Joe. “I like to hear Pa read, so you can just sit there if you don’t like it!”  Well, that was enthusiastic of Hoss if not exactly cheerful. It appeared all it took was to have seven-year-old Hoss thrust out his chin and glare at his older brother to make Adam subside into sulky silence.  At least it was silence.

“What will you read?” asked Marie.

“This book is a collection of fairy tales.” A loud groan emanated from his oldest son.

Ben dropped his head for a moment and reminded himself to ignore the boy. Everyone said that thirteen was a difficult age. “It’s written by a man who is very popular in Europe, Hans Christian Anderson. We’re very lucky to have this translation. I haven’t had the chance to read any of the stories yet, but I thought we could start with the story titled, The Steadfast Tin Soldier.[i]”

Adam perked up a bit, but Hoss looked a mite confused.

“What does ‘steadfast’ mean?

“Well, when someone is steadfast it means that they hold onto their beliefs, they stay calm and just do what they think is the right thing.”

Satisfied, Hoss leaned back against Marie’s shoulder.

“Once upon a time five and twenty tin solders were made out of the same old tin spoon . . . Each solder was exactly like the other in shape, except just one who had been made last when the tin had run short, but there he stood as firmly on his one leg as the others did on two.”

“Is that being steadfast, Pa?”

“I would think so, Hoss.”

“ . . . There were many other playthings on the table being set out, but the nicest of all was a pretty little castle made of cardboard with windows through which you could see the rooms. In front of the castle stood some little trees surrounding a tiny mirror which looked like a lake. . . the most beautiful thing was a little lady who stood in the open doorway.  She was cut out of paper, but she had on a dress of the finest muslin with a scarf of narrow blue ribbon around her shoulders, fastened in the middle with a glittering rose of gold paper. The little lady was stretching out both her arms, for she was a dancer, and was lifting up one leg so high in the air that the tin soldier couldn’t see it, and thought that she, too, had only one leg.  ‘That’s the wife for me, he thought.’”

Ben couldn’t keep himself from pausing to look upon his own pretty lady who just happened to be wearing a blue shawl around her shoulders. Marie met his gaze with a soft look so full of promise that it made Ben feel a little warm, despite the draft coming from the front window.

“Awww, come on,” moaned Adam, who had a hand over his own eyes.

Oops. Best to save those looks for later. Ben resumed reading.

“ . . . he stretched himself out behind a snuff box that lay on the table from there he could watch the dainty little lady . . . When the night came all the other tin soldiers went into the box, and the people of the house went to bed. Then the toys began to play at visiting, dancing and fighting . . . the only two who didn’t stir from their places were the tin solder and the little dancer.”

“Mama, do you think that’s true? Do you think toys come alive when we’re asleep?”

“Don’t be dumb, Hoss. Toys aren’t alive.”

“You don’t know everything! Maybe it’s true.”

Ben wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected from this evening’s entertainment, but he hadn’t pictured his boys fighting over whether toys were actually alive. Frankly, his patience was beginning to wear a bit thin, and if Marie hadn’t taken it upon herself to end the quarrel, he might have given up on the story.

When peace was restored, Ben continued.

“The clock struck twelve, and crack! off flew the lid of the spice-box . . . inside was a little imp . . . a magical creature like a fairy, only naughty.

‘Hullo, tin soldier! Don’t look at things that aren’t intended for you.” But the tin soldier took no notice and seemed not to hear. ‘Very well, wait for tomorrow.’ When it was morning, the tin soldier was put in the window and whether it was the wind or the imp, the window flew open and out fell the little tin soldier . . .  he landed on his head with his leg in the air.

The maid and the little boy came down at once to look for him, but they didn’t notice him. If the tin soldier had called out they must have found him, but he didn’t think it fitting to cry out.”

“Why didn’t he ask for help, Pa?  You always tell us to ask for help when we’re trouble.”

To Ben’s surprise, Adam answered Hoss’s question.

“The solder was being steadfast, remember?  He didn’t think it was right to call out for help because he was a solder.”

Hiding his smile at Adam’s engagement with the story (finally!), Ben continued reading.

“Soon it began to rain . . . a regular downpour. When it was over, two little street boys came by . . . they made a little boat of newspaper, put the tin soldier in it and made him sail up and down the gutter. . . the water went so quick the tin soldier trembled, but he remained steadfast . . . All at once the boat passed under a long tunnel that was as dark as his box had been.

The current became swifter and stronger. The tin soldier could see daylight where the tunnel ended. . . At the end of the tunnel the gutter emptied into a large canal . . . On went the boat with the poor tin soldier. The boat whirled round and became filled with water and began to sink . . . Deeper and deeper sank the boat and softer and softer grew the paper. Now the water was over his head. He was thinking of the pretty little dancer whose face he would never see again.”

“Perhaps, this story is a little frightening for the children,” Marie murmured. Ben was wondering about that himself, but rather than terrified, his sons seemed completely absorbed in the tale.

“The paper came in two, and the soldier fell – but at that moment he was swallowed by a great fish.”

“What! Did I hear that right?” Adam interrupted. When Ben confirmed that, yes, the tin soldier had been swallowed by a big fish, the boy flopped back against the blue velvet cushion of his favorite chair.

“. . . Up and down swam the fish and made the most dreadful contortions and became suddenly quite still. Then as if by a flash of lightning . . . the daylight streamed in and a voice exclaimed, ‘Why here is the little tin solder!’ The fish had been caught . . . sold and brought into the kitchen where the cook had cut it open . . . She carried the tin soldier into the room where everyone wanted to see the hero who been found inside the fish. . .  The tin soldier was in the same room with . . . the same children . . .  and the same grand castle with the pretty little dancer. . . He looked at her but she said nothing.”

“Unbelievable!” Adam muttered.

“It’s a fairy tale, Adam,” Hoss interjected calmly. Ben caught Marie’s eye, and it was all he could do not to burst into laughter.

“All at once, one of the little boys took up the tin soldier and threw him into the stove, giving no reason, but doubtless the imp was as at the bottom of this. There the tin soldier lay and felt a great heat that was truly terrible . . . he looked at the little lady, she looked at him, and he felt that he was melting, but he remained steadfast. Suddenly a door opened, the draft caught up the little dancer and she flew like a fairy to the tin soldier in the stove, burst into flames – and that was the end of her!  Then the tin soldier melted down into a little lump – and that was the end of him . . . next morning, when the maid was taking out the ashes, she found him melted in the shape of a heart. There was nothing left of the little dancer but her gilt rose burned as black as a cinder.”

“They DIED?! They both DIED?!”

“Great Christmas story, Pa.”  Where had his eldest learned sarcasm?

“Now, remember, mon petit, this is only a story.  Yes, it is sad at the end, but it was very exciting, wasn’t it?”

Well, ‘exciting’ was one word for it.  Blast it, he should have looked at these stories before reading one of them to his family. Was there anyway to salvage this disaster of a story? Nothing to do but fall back on tradition.

“So, boys,” Ben asked, “what do you think the moral of this story is?”  Ben sincerely hoped someone had a good answer because he was running a bit dry of ideas himself.

“Everybody dies in the end?” Adam offered. Really, that was the best the boy could come up with? Ben wasn’t certain if his son was being sincere or being a smart aleck.  All things considered, he was leaning toward ‘smart aleck.’

“I know!” Hoss was hopping up and down with excitement. “It’s a story about Jesus.”

That . . . was not what Ben expected. From the look on Adam’s face, it wasn’t what the older boy expected either.

“That little soldier was steadfast, right? He did what he believed in, right?  And, he . . .  he stayed calm, right?  He even got all melted up and didn’t yell or complain or nothin’, right?”

“True . . .”

“That’s just what Jesus did, too . . . ‘cept he didn’t get melted. AND Jesus was born at Christmas, right? So, it is, too, a Christmas story.  I liked it a lot.”

Out of the mouths of babes.  Ben was so surprised and proud, he was actually a little misty-eyed. Even Adam seemed impressed by his little brother’s logic.

“Mama, I hear Little Joe hollerin’. Can we go upstairs and see him?”

Marie bundled Hoss up the stairs to tend to the child that everyone could now hear ‘hollerin.’ Ben sighed and sank back into his chair, wondering about the wisdom of continuing this story time tradition.

“Pa,” Adam broke the silence in the most respectful tone of voice Ben had heard from him in a week. “Could I choose the story for tomorrow?”

Again . . . that was not what Ben expected to hear. From years of hunting (and raising children), Ben knew better than to appear too eager—mustn’t frighten the boy off.

“Certainly. Here’s the book, and if you want, choose the stories for the next few nights.”

Adam accepted the volume and turned to head upstairs to his room. Putting his foot on the first step, the boy paused to speak to Ben one last time, “Being steadfast is a good thing.  Thanks, Pa.”

This was turning out to be one of the best ideas Ben had come up with in a long time.

XXXXXXXXXX MERRY CHRISTMAS XXXXXXXXXX

My prompts were:

Primary character: Ben

Item: Tin soldier

Link to the 2022 Bonanza Brand Advent Calendar – Day 11 – Christmas Candle by sklamb