Myths and Mistletoe

When Myths are Born

4th Century, Anatolia (Turkey)

Unable to find comfort in slumber, young Senay quietly climbed down the rough wooden ladder to the below floors where the public rooms lay in darkened silence. Sliding a chair beneath the window facing north, she took solace in the majestic beauty of the moon and stars above. She imagined what it would be like to fly among them; to be on top of the world and away from the harsh realities that tortured the minds and hearts of good people.

Though a nobleman, her father had lost all of their money in a game of chance that had not gone in his favor. Now her eldest sister could not wed the man she loved since she no longer possessed a dowry in which to purchase his parents approval. She had heard them whispering of running away together, but Senay did not wish for this to happen. The two lovers would be punished severely for betraying tradition if they ever returned home, so it would mean never seeing her sister again.

The worst of it all was the knowledge that once their father passed away, there would be nothing to protect them from the evils of the world. All four sisters would eventually have to take employment to survive, but the life of a prostitute, the only option available to poverty stricken girls, was not a life any of them wished to endure. With a heavy heart, Senay prayed for a miracle. She hoped with all of her heart that someone would rescue her family from shame and dishonor.

As if the Lord had a sense of humor, a heavy pebble flew through the window and landed square on her head with a loud clunk. She lifted her head over the sill and searched for the trickster who had assaulted her. A man with a long white beard covered head to toe in a dark cloak chuckled at her rankled face and beckoned for her to come join his side.

Senay hesitated at the window, watching the strange old man with caution. He threw another object through the window, this one missing her head by a few inches, and as she followed its landing, she was amazed by the amount of shimmering gold that spilled from the confines of the drawstring pouch. Her heart leapt with joy at the man's generosity, her troubles instantly vanquished in that moment. She brought her head over the sill once again to offer the man her thanks, but he was no where to be seen.

Every night she waited for that silly old man to reappear; to share with him the good news of her sister's upcoming wedding thanks to his benevolence. But he did not return, at least not until that very same day the following year. Her twin sister's were now of age and loved two brothers from a neighboring family, but their father was ill and their situation still poor. So, Senay wished upon the Northern most star and said a prayer for her father to find comfort and for her sisters to know joy.

That pesky pebble made its mark at the center of her forehead, pulling her attention to the silly old man standing some feet away once again cloaked from head the foot. His kind, old eyes sparkled with mischief, but his smile awakened hope in her heart. He beckoned for her to join his side, but still she hesitated at the window, uncertain what he wished of her. As before, he tossed in a purse filled with gold, but this time she counted far more. When she rose up to bestow her gratitude, she discovered him gone once again, but this time she knew when he would return.

A year later, her heart heavy with grief at the loss of her dear father, Senay prayed to the moon and the stars above for his soul's safe journey to the hidden world up above. Tonight would be her last night in her father's home, for she was to go live with her eldest sister and help care for her children since she was still too young to wed.

There was a familiar thunk as pebble met flesh, and there to her left stood that silly old man cloaked in obscurity. But this time when he beckoned with a wave of his frail hand, she ran from the window and out the door. He said not a word as she came to his side, he only looked at her with that twinkle in his eye.

She opened her mouth to profess all her thanks, but he halted her words with a single finger pressed to her lips. He retrieved a bag from beneath the folds of his cloak and presented it to her with both hands. Senay loosened the drawstring and pushed the lush red velvet down, revealing the object inside.

Illuminated by moonlight, the transparent sphere was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen in her life. Etched across its glassy surface were frosted images that she could not identify.

"What is it?" she asked in awe, gingerly caressing the object.

"This, my dear child, is a replica of the world in which we live. These pictures frozen upon its surface are called continents. Representations of the land at our very feet. " he replied in a deep and soothing voice.

"Are we so small that we exist on such a tiny sphere?" she asked innocently, mesmerized by how it sparkled.

The man chuckled. "If you ask a philosopher, than perhaps so, but ask a man of god and he will tell you that our existence is far grander and more mysterious than mortals will ever be capable of grasping. This is proof of that."

"How so?"

"Do you see that sparkle there? No, not there, but here. Just below my finger tip?"

She stared at the etching where he pointed, and sure enough she could see the faint glow of something. It was almost as if a sun the size of a pin point were trapped just beneath the surface. "How did you do that?"

"My only part is that I possess this unique vessel. That tiny glow that you see there is all you," he stated tenderly.

"Me? But I am here and much too big to fit inside there," she answered pointedly. 

This reply drew forth another chuckle from the old man. "I call this the Crystal of Christouyenna. It draws its powers from belief and faith, but as you can see it is quite dim."

"Belief in God? But everyone I know believes in God. My papa is with him right now!" she passionately explained, confusion creasing her little brow.

He patted her on the head, cradling the sphere in the palm of his hand. "This is a different kind of belief. A belief in the good will of mankind. Faith in miracles and hope for peace and prosperity. These are gifts that have been bestowed upon us, but have been forgotten in a time where war and disease constantly rob us of all that we love and cherish."

"You believe, so where is your glow?" she asked, searching the globe for another tiny sun.

"Ah, such a clever girl you are," he praised, carefully putting the ball back into its red velvet bag much to her disappointment. "Only children possess the purity of belief that the globe needs to thrive. They hope and pray with no ulterior motive. It is up to us to remind them of what it is to believe."

"Why me?" she asked, looking at him with pale blue eyes that reflected her wonderment.

He bent over so that his eyes were level with hers. "Because when life was at its darkest hour, you prayed for a miracle. You never thought of yourself, but only of your family. Ever since that first night I appeared, you believed that I would return. You believed in me. Your belief brought that crystal to life after centuries of dormancy. I believe in you and know that you can inspire the world to believe in generosity of mankind once more."

He offered his hand and she took it, resolute to assist in his endeavor to bring joy to world once again. As they walked away from her home of twelve years, she recounted all of the good memories she had shared there with her family. There was no future there for her, but with her silly old man she could rekindle the hope that children had lost over time.

"What is your name, silly old man," she asked with a smile, bright in the moonlight.

"Nikolaos of Myra," he answered, his eyes cast far away. "But many will remember me as Saint Nicholas. Do you know any songs, little Senay?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "From home to home, from heart to heart, we'll bring joy to children lost in the dark," she sang as she skipped along side of him.