Summary: Every year, on the night before Christmas Eve, Hop Sing would make candles.\u00a0 Now, candles are kind of old fashioned, so I asked him why.\u00a0 This is the tale he told me, a tale of wonder and grace.
\nWritten for day 9 of the 2021 Advent Calendar.
\nRating: G
\nWord Count: 3915<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Bonanza Be a Candle<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n ONE<\/p>\n Joe Cartwright woke to the scent of honey.<\/p>\n He sat up in his bed and breathed it in before slipping his feet into his slippers, pulling on a robe, and heading downstairs.\u00a0\u00a0It was Christmas Eve Day and his father and brothers were still asleep.\u00a0\u00a0A storm had moved in on the 21st<\/sup>\u00a0and it hadn\u2019t stopped snowing since.\u00a0\u00a0Yesterday, the four of them had been hip-deep in the white fluffy stuff, tending their stock and making sure the animals had roofs over their heads that wouldn\u2019t collapse.\u00a0\u00a0They were all exhausted and Pa said it was okay to sleep in as late as they wanted today.<\/p>\n All the better, Joe thought.\u00a0\u00a0There wouldn\u2019t be any ribbing this year.<\/p>\n When he reached the bottom of the steps, the handsome young man paused and sniffed.\u00a0\u00a0Yep, honey.\u00a0\u00a0Or more exactly, beeswax.<\/p>\n Hop Sing was at it again.<\/p>\n Joe ran a hand through his tousled curls, attempting to bring some order to them.\u00a0\u00a0A tongue lashing first thing in the morning wasn\u2019t something he wanted or needed.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing and his pa had their differences, but when it came to what his father called \u2018decorum\u2019, the two men sang from the same hymn book.<\/p>\n The heavenly scent grew stronger as he approached the kitchen, causing his stomach to growl in anticipation of the thick slice of bread heaped with butter and honey he knew was waiting for him.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing didn\u2019t exactly call him the \u2018runt of the litter\u2019, but he knew that was how the Asian man saw him.\u00a0\u00a0Hoss and Adam were early risers and big eaters.\u00a0\u00a0Often, by the time he made it to the kitchen, the fresh bread was gone.\u00a0\u00a0He didn\u2019t remember it, but Hop Sing said \u2013 when he was\u00a0really<\/i>\u00a0little \u2013 that his lower lip would quiver and tears would come into his eyes as he stared at the empty platter.\u00a0\u00a0It happened so often that Hoppy, as he called him then, began to put back a thick substantial slice every morning so he never went hungry.<\/p>\n Joe halted at the edge of the kitchen and peered around the hearth wall.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing was where he expected him to be \u2013 on a stool in front of the hearth, leaning over a kettle of wax.\u00a0\u00a0It was the same every year.\u00a0\u00a0Every December 23rd<\/sup>\u00a0the Asian man would dust off his wooden candle reel and place it before the fire.\u00a0\u00a0The reel consisted of a center pole, a round top, half a dozen wooden \u2018arms\u2019, and six round dippers or paddles with hooks that held the wicks.\u00a0\u00a0Over the course of the following day, while he waited on things to cook, he would make two or three dozen candles.<\/p>\n Candles of course, were kind of old-fashioned.\u00a0\u00a0They lit their house with oil lamps.\u00a0\u00a0Joe chuckled from his place in the shadows.\u00a0\u00a0He was six, or maybe seven, before he found the courage to tell Hop Sing he was wasting his time.\u00a0\u00a0The Asian man threw his hands in the air, declared what he said to be \u2018foolishment!\u2019, and then ordered him to pick up a heavy wicker basket laden with dozens of candles and follow him.\u00a0\u00a0Together, they placed a single taper in each and every window on the ranch \u2013 the barn and bunkhouse included!\u00a0\u00a0At midnight he got his second set of marching orders.\u00a0\u00a0This time he had to carry an oil lamp so Hop Sing could light the wicks.<\/p>\n That was when it started.\u00a0\u00a0Their tradition.<\/p>\n Since that day, every Christmas Eve he would rise early and come to the kitchen.\u00a0\u00a0If he was lucky he\u2019d beat his brothers out of bed, but no matter what, his slice of honey bread would be waiting for him and so would Hop Sing.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019d pull up a chair and sit and eat while the Asian man worked his magic.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing\u2019s candles were a work of art \u2013 each one tall and straight as a Ponderosa pine.\u00a0\u00a0Joe snorted as he stepped into the light where the Asian man could see him.\u00a0\u00a0It took him another two years growth to become bold enough to ask Hop Sing\u00a0why<\/i>\u00a0he made the candles.<\/p>\n That was the second part of their Christmas tradition.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019d heard the story a dozen times.<\/p>\n He was ready to hear it again.<\/p>\n \u201cBread and honey on table for little boy,\u201d the Asian man said without looking up.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBoy sit down and eat, and then take turn at reel.\u201d<\/p>\n Yep, along the way he\u2019d been recruited.\u00a0\u00a0As Hop Sing grew older, the labor-intensive chore hurt his back and took too much of the time he needed to cook.\u00a0\u00a0When he was fifteen, the Asian man gave up his seat and let him make candles too.\u00a0\u00a0At first it was hard work, but then he began to enjoy it. There was something soothing about the up and down, in and out movement of dipping the wicks and placing the paddles back on the reel; the crack and pop of the fire at his back, the scent of the beeswax, and the creaking of the reel.<\/p>\n It was almost other-worldly.<\/p>\n While he worked, Hop Sing would make a pot of his special tea.\u00a0\u00a0Since he was from China, it took a while.\u00a0\u00a0Once done with the ritual, the Asian man would bring the tea to the table, pour them both a cup, and then sit down.\u00a0\u00a0Sometimes it took a minute, other times it might be ten, but eventually he would begin to talk.\u00a0\u00a0Every year it was the same story.<\/p>\n The story of a day when he should have died but didn\u2019t, because God sent an angel to save him.<\/p>\n An angel who made candles.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n TWO<\/p>\n Bitter was the wind.\u00a0\u00a0So bitter, the heavily padded coat he wore was useless, as were his cotton pants and cobbled leather shoes.\u00a0\u00a0He had seen snow before, but there had been nothing like this back home in China.\u00a0\u00a0The man he bought his horse from assured him he would make it to his destination before the winter storms arrived, but he had lied and now his horse was dead.<\/p>\n Soon, he would be too.<\/p>\n Hop Sing, son of Hop Ling \u2013 who waited for him in the Utah Territory along with his mother, brothers and sisters \u2013 pulled the collar of his pearl-gray coat closer about his throat. The world was a blank sheet with nothing written upon it.\u00a0\u00a0All was white: grass, trees, and sky.\u00a0\u00a0He did not know where he was, but he knew where he was soon to be.<\/p>\n Facing the ten magistrates of Hell.<\/p>\n The young man shuddered.\u00a0\u00a0If he had been home, where the local gods knew him, he might have had a chance.\u00a0\u00a0The record of his deeds would have shown him to be a good man.\u00a0\u00a0He was not from this place.\u00a0\u00a0If he died here, the god of the mountain would know nothing of him and he would not be able to prove he was not an evil man.\u00a0\u00a0There would be no escaping the Underworld, and he would spend eternity in that terrible place, away from all he loved.<\/p>\n When his horse fell and did not rise, he had fallen as well to his knees and asked the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0for guidance.\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps he was too far away and they did not hear him.\u00a0\u00a0Maybe it was that the spirits had forgotten him.\u00a0\u00a0Years had passed since he last visited the shrine of his ancestors.\u00a0\u00a0Either way, they did not answer.\u00a0\u00a0He was alone, without guidance or hope.<\/p>\n He was going to die,<\/p>\n He did not want to die.<\/p>\n Hop Sing closed his eyes and drew in a halting breath.\u00a0\u00a0The cold choked him and he coughed before starting forward again.\u00a0\u00a0The snow was very deep and each step an effort.\u00a0\u00a0He continued forward as the page it was written upon went from white to gray, to purple, and finally to a black field without stars.\u00a0\u00a0He walked until he could not feel his face or feet or fingers, until his mind grew cold as stone and his blood thick as ice.\u00a0\u00a0While he walked his cracked lips moved, calling first to the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0\u2013 the spirits of those who had gone before \u2013 and then pleading with\u00a0any\u00a0<\/i>god who would listen.<\/p>\n He asked to be saved.<\/p>\n His wise father told him when young that to ask the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0for aid called for silence.\u00a0\u00a0This he did not understand until he was much older.\u00a0\u00a0How could one ask\u00a0and<\/i>\u00a0be silent?\u00a0\u00a0Hop Ling said men seek the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0in the whirlwind and fire, in shouts and clamor and in the midst of battle, but this is not where the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0dwell.<\/p>\n The young man stopped.\u00a0\u00a0Here, the silence was profound.<\/p>\n Surely the gods would hear him.<\/p>\n It was at that moment that he saw it \u2013 a single, solitary light in the distance.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing blinked his eyes to make certain it was real.\u00a0\u00a0The light did not go away but grew in strength until it shone as a beacon and buoyed his weary spirit.\u00a0\u00a0He moved forward along a cleared path only partially reclaimed by a fresh fall of snow.\u00a0\u00a0It led to a tidy structure perched atop a rocky knoll \u2013 a rough-hewn cabin, sturdy; built of split logs.\u00a0\u00a0Smoke rose from its cat and clay chimney, and from its stone underbelly came the cries of sheep and goats.<\/p>\n The young man\u2019s shaking legs took him to its door, but he lacked the strength to knock.\u00a0\u00a0Spent, he slid to the snow-covered stoop and laid there, assured of his death.<\/p>\n His wise father told him another thing.\u00a0\u00a0The\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0were capricious.\u00a0\u00a0They answered a man\u2019s prayers, but not always in the way he desired.<\/p>\n A rueful smile formed on his frigid lips.<\/p>\n This, perhaps, was their idea of delivery.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n THREE<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Hop Sing woke to the scent of honey.<\/p>\n It stirred in him a memory of servitude and he knew he must rise and begin the new day \u2013 but found he could not.\u00a0\u00a0His arms and legs were heavy as hearthstones, and his fingers and toes burned like the fire that heated them.\u00a0\u00a0Suddenly aware of pain, he cried out.<\/p>\n \u201cTake it easy, child,\u201d someone said.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThere\u2019s a wonder it\u2019s me and not Saint Peter you\u2019re addressin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n It was a woman who spoke, her voice ancient and thin as rice paper.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing turned his head to look at her, but his eyes burned as well.\u00a0\u00a0Tears filled them and he could not see.<\/p>\n \u201cJesus, Mary, and Joseph!,\u201d the woman exclaimed as she came toward him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou\u2019re a funny one.\u00a0\u00a0Haven\u2019t you ever near-froze to death before?\u201d<\/p>\n He replied, but there was no reply.\u00a0\u00a0His lips brought forth only wind.<\/p>\n \u201cNow, now.\u00a0\u00a0That\u2019s a question that doesn\u2019t need answerin\u2019,\u201d she said as she sat down beside him and pulled the coverlet up to this his chin.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou just lie still.\u00a0\u00a0Time will tell us whether or not you\u2019re going to lose those toes.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0When he started with fear, she altered her tone.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNow, don\u2019t you worry.\u00a0\u00a0I wrapped some hot stones to press up against them. They\u2019ll be warm soon enough.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2026.thank\u2026you.\u201d<\/p>\n The woman was a blur, but he thought she lifted her hand to strike away a tear.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWell now, I couldn\u2019t have you clutterin\u2019 up my stoop all winter long, could I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis\u2026humble one\u2026.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He winced.\u00a0\u00a0His throat was on fire as well.\u00a0\u00a0Determined, Hop Sing cleared it and continued.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThis humble one\u2026.must beg forgiveness.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhatever for?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI come uninvited.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, now, there you have it.\u00a0\u00a0There\u2019s no one wrong more often than a man!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She laughed as her warm hand touched his cold cheek.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou\u00a0were<\/i>\u00a0invited.\u00a0\u00a0All\u00a0<\/i>are invited to the good Lord\u2019s table.\u00a0\u00a0Why do you think I leave the candle burnin\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt is not\u2026fitting\u2026for you to care for me,\u201d he said and tried to rise.\u00a0\u00a0The pain was overwhelming.\u00a0\u00a0A blackness, deeper than the one he had experienced on the mountain sought to take him.<\/p>\n \u201cHush, child,\u201d the woman said as she held a cup of steaming liquid to his lips.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDrink deep.\u00a0\u00a0Sleep.\u00a0\u00a0When you wake, the pain will be gone.\u201d<\/p>\n He knew the scent, and the herbs.\u00a0\u00a0He too used them to quiet fear and apprehension.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n The cup was withdrawn.\u00a0\u00a0Her hand returned.<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d she whispered, \u201cthank you.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n FOUR<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The scent of honey was stronger and so was he.\u00a0\u00a0This time when Hop Sing opened his eyes, he was able to sit up and swing his legs over the edge of the bed.\u00a0\u00a0He was dressed in unfamiliar clothing that was two sizes too large, but the well-worn fall-front janes and blue-check flannel shirt were both warm and welcome.\u00a0\u00a0The young man\u2019s cheeks reddened when he spotted his own thin coat, shirt, and pants hung over a ladder-back chair near the fire.<\/p>\n This visible sign of the old woman\u2019s care for him deepened his humility.<\/p>\n She sat beside the fire and hummed as she turned a candle reel.\u00a0\u00a0The old woman\u2019s cheeks were red as the fire.\u00a0\u00a0She huffed a bit as she repeated the motion of removing a dipper from the arm, plunging the thickened wicks into the wax, and then returning the round paddle to the reel before moving on to the next one.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing watched spellbound as she did this.\u00a0\u00a0The repetitive motion soothed his troubled spirit, as did the song she sang.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n \u2018Full many a bird did wake and fly,<\/i><\/p>\n To the manger bed with a wandering cry,<\/i><\/p>\n On Christmas day in the morning.<\/i><\/p>\n Curoo curoo curoo, curoo curoo curoo<\/i><\/p>\n The lark the dove and the red bird came,<\/i><\/p>\n Curoo curoo curoo.<\/i><\/p>\n The lark the dove and the red bird came,<\/i><\/p>\n And they did sing in sweet Jesus’ name,<\/i><\/p>\n On Christmas day in the morning.<\/i><\/p>\n Curoo curoo curoo. curoo curoo curoo.\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n <\/p>\n A few minutes later, the woman paused.\u00a0\u00a0She straightened up and placed a hand against her back.<\/p>\n It was then she noticed him.<\/p>\n Hop Sing did not know what to expect as she faced him.\u00a0\u00a0He had met many white women since coming to America.\u00a0\u00a0Some feared him for the color of his skin.\u00a0\u00a0They called him \u2018*****\u2019 and \u2018coolie\u2019 and struck him if he met their gaze.\u00a0\u00a0Others were indifferent.\u00a0\u00a0They met his with nothing in their own and acted as if he was not there.<\/p>\n This<\/i>\u00a0white woman looked him in the eyes and smiled.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, there it is!\u201d she declared.<\/p>\n Hop Sing glanced behind and frowned.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThere\u2026what is?\u201d he asked as he turned back.<\/p>\n The woman stood and wiped her hands on her apron.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhy, the answer to my prayer, child. Just look at you, standin\u2019 on those toes that only last night I thought for sure were goin\u2019 to the good Lord before the rest of you!\u201d<\/p>\n \u2018The good Lord.\u2019<\/p>\n She had used this phrase before.\u00a0\u00a0He was not certain, but he thought the good \u2019lord\u2019 she spoke was the baby Jesus of her song; one of the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0the white people worshipped.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing shook his head.\u00a0\u00a0He did not think this white shen would want anything to do with\u00a0any\u00a0<\/i>part of him!<\/p>\n \u201cThis one thanks you for saving his life,\u201d he said softly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe is in your debt.\u201d<\/p>\n The woman was running the back of her hand across her forehead, wiping away the sweat of hard work.\u00a0\u00a0She paused in mid-motion.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou owe me nothin\u2019, child.\u00a0\u00a0Tis the good Lord Himself what rescued you.\u201d<\/p>\n He saw now that she was younger than he had thought.\u00a0\u00a0Though the Irish woman\u2019s hair was white, there were streaks of dark blond running through it.\u00a0\u00a0Her face was lined from both years and the sun, but it still held a hint of its former beauty.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing wondered what had aged her before her time.\u00a0\u00a0If she lived alone in this place, as he suspected, that would explain it.\u00a0\u00a0Her children had gone.\u00a0\u00a0Her husband was dead and she had stayed behind to tend the place they loved.<\/p>\n \u201cCat got your tongue?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYou will please to pardon this one\u2019s confusion.\u00a0\u00a0I see no\u2026good lord\u2026only you.\u00a0\u00a0How is it\u00a0he<\/i>\u00a0who has aided me?\u201d<\/p>\n The woman held his gaze a moment and then thrust out one callused hand. \u201cFirst of all, introductions.\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019ll not be addressin\u2019 you as \u2018honored one\u2019, though it\u2019s a nice enough title.\u00a0\u00a0My name\u2019s Maggie.\u201d<\/p>\n He wobbled a bit as he bowed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThis humble one is called Hop Sing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPull up a chair, Hop Sing, and sit down.\u00a0\u00a0You\u2019re weak as a newborn!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Maggie removed her soiled apron and tossed it over the back of a chair.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWe\u2019ll have some bread with honey.\u00a0\u00a0That\u2019ll give you stomach for more.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She beamed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe honey\u2019s from the bees in the meadow over the mountain.\u00a0\u00a0Tis like no other!\u201d<\/p>\n He waited until she had returned with the items to ask, \u201cDoes the wax you use come from the same bees?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAye, child.\u00a0\u00a0That wax makes candles so straight they point to Heaven, as you discovered for yourself last night.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Maggie took a seat.\u00a0\u00a0She arranged her napkin on her lap and then bowed her head.\u00a0\u00a0He had seen this done before in the white men\u2019s houses where he worked.\u00a0\u00a0He did the same.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThank you, Father, for the gifts you give,\u201d she began, \u201cfor light and life and laughter, and for lighting the way for this weary traveler.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The Irish woman lifted her hand and made a sign; the same one he had seen the clergyman who had given him the wooden cross make.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIn the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.\u00a0\u00a0Amen.\u201d<\/p>\n After they had finished and he had thanked her for the food, Hop Sing asked the question that had come to mind as she finished her prayer.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAre these your\u00a0shen<\/i>?\u00a0\u00a0This father, son, and holy ghost?\u201d<\/p>\n Maggie was dabbing at her lips.\u00a0\u00a0She looked over the napkin at him.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMy \u2018shen\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe\u2026spirits who guide you.\u201d<\/p>\n She laughed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIn a way, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo they\u2026listen to you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAye.\u00a0\u00a0Do your\u2026shen\u2026listen to you?\u201d<\/p>\n He frowned.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI do not know.\u00a0\u00a0I am here.\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps it is they who guided me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, no, lad,\u201d Maggie said, her voice suddenly solemn.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat was my\u00a0shen<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n She rose and crossed to the window.\u00a0\u00a0There was a fresh candle there, burning as brightly as the one that had guided him to her home.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing\u2019s gaze went to the window sill.\u00a0\u00a0It was\u00a0covered<\/i>\u00a0in wax, as if a candle had burned there from the beginning of time.\u00a0\u00a0He noted a low wooden able beside it.\u00a0\u00a0On the table was an ironstone pitcher and a loaf of bread, along with two plates and a knife.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know why I keep the candle lit, child?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n It would do nothing to illuminate her home.\u00a0\u00a0In fact, he had noticed light was provided by a pair of oil lamps; the oil no doubt supplied by traders who passed through in the warmer months.<\/p>\n \u201cTo light the way of travelers,\u201d he replied.<\/p>\n The Irish woman\u2019s fingers brushed the cross that hung around her neck; the one with a man\u2019s body hanging on it.\u00a0\u00a0He had noted it the night before when she bent over him to pull up the coverlet.<\/p>\n \u201cAye.\u00a0\u00a0Two\u00a0particular\u00a0<\/i>travelers,\u201d she said, and then quoted, \u201cAnd it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed, and all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.\u00a0\u00a0And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem because he was of the house and lineage of David, to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.\u201d<\/i>\u00a0\u00a0Maggie smiled.\u00a0\u00a0\u201c I set out the Christ candle every night to light the way for Mary and Joseph, and for\u00a0all<\/i>\u00a0weary travelers.\u00a0\u00a0The food on the table is so all have strength to continue.\u201d<\/p>\n He knew of this Mary and Joseph.\u00a0\u00a0This time of year he would hear the story read in the houses where he worked.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you know how old Mary and Joseph were, Hop Sing, when they set out for Bethlehem?\u201d the older woman asked.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThey were barely more than babes and yet, they trusted in God.\u00a0\u00a0Their journey was long \u2013 impossible, you might say \u2013 but they knew He\u2019d see them through because God had a reason and a purpose for their lives.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Maggie returned to the stool before the fire.\u00a0\u00a0She sat down and reached for a paddle.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI have a feelin\u2019 you\u2019re on such a journey, Hop Sing, and I\u00a0know<\/i>\u00a0God has a reason and a purpose for your life, else he wouldn\u2019t have dropped you half-frozen on\u00a0my<\/i>\u00a0stoop.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She turned toward the fire and began to dip again.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIf you like a good story, there\u2019s a book over by the bed.\u00a0\u00a0You might try turnin\u2019 to the chapter that\u2019s written by a man named Luke.\u00a0\u00a0Now, be a good lad and keep quiet while I finish my song.\u201d<\/p>\n <\/p>\n FIVE<\/p>\n Joe hummed the tune to himself while Hop Sing put the finishing touches to the candles.\u00a0\u00a0It was known to him as the \u2018Carol of the Birds\u2019.\u00a0\u00a0The song spoke of nature\u2019s worship for God\u2019s only son, the baby Jesus.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing\u2019s story always ended when he picked up Maggie\u2019s Bible.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019d pressed the Asian man over the years and gotten a few more details.\u00a0\u00a0The Irish woman finished her candles.\u00a0\u00a0They ate supper together and this time, when she prayed to her\u00a0shen<\/i>, Hop Sing felt a stirring in his heart to learn more about the white men\u2019s God – these three\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0who were one.<\/p>\n When he woke up in the morning, she was gone.<\/p>\n Where she went, he never knew.\u00a0\u00a0At first he feared she\u2019d gone outside to gather wood or to tend the animals and become lost.\u00a0\u00a0Hop Sing looked and looked, but found no trace and so, in time \u2013 when the snow stopped and at last a warm day came \u2013 he left the cabin, taking nothing with him that he had not brought.<\/p>\n With the exception of the Irish woman\u2019s Bible \u2013 and that stirring in his heart.<\/p>\n Hop Sing kept a Chinese shrine in the kitchen, but he also called himself a \u2018good Baptist\u2019.\u00a0\u00a0It seemed both the\u00a0shen<\/i>\u00a0of his childhood and the three-in-one he had met on that mountain had come to the Ponderosa with him.\u00a0\u00a0His ways were simple and his needs few.\u00a0\u00a0The Asian man celebrated Christmas by making\u00a0them<\/i>\u00a0merry, and most of the time was more of a shadow than anything else.\u00a0\u00a0Joe had noted, though, how their cook and friend always appeared just as Pa sat down to read the story written by that feller named Luke telling how the true Light had come into the world.<\/p>\n Joe turned toward Hop Sing when he called his name.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLittle Joe remember what wise father say?\u201d the older man asked.<\/p>\n Yeah, he remembered.<\/p>\n \u2018There are two ways to spread the light \u2013 be a candle, or be the one to reflect its light.\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n Joe placed a hand on the Asian man\u2019s shoulder and smiled as he remembered what his own \u2018wise\u2019 father had told him just the night before.<\/p>\n There was\u00a0no one<\/i>\u00a0who could hold a candle to Hop Sing!<\/p>\n <\/p>\n END<\/p>\n Character: Hop Sing<\/strong><\/p>\n Prompt: Making candles<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Link to Day 10 of the Bonanza Brand 2021 Advent Calendar:\u00a0 Bottom Line by Cheaux<\/a><\/p>\n
\n~*~*~ Advent Calendar ~*~*~
\n* Day 9*<\/span><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n