A long time ago, all the stories ever known had been told so many times that people
knew them all very well. So well, in fact, that people were sure they would never forget them, so people
didn’t make time to listen to them any more!
Well, we all know that if no one is listening, it’s not long before no one will be
telling, either, so you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that soon the stories started to disappear.
Now, it happened that one child understood something that the grown-ups didn’t.
After all, stories hold all the magic in the world, and all the really important
information, too.
Why, if it weren’t for stories that had been told generation after generation, no one
would know that the willow tree holds the secret to easing pain, or how the moon and stars came to live
in the night time sky.
The lessons of kindness and wisdom would be lost; there would be no trickster tales to
shorten the long winter nights; and no fairy stories would linger to carry children to sleep.
It was a sad and lonely time for stories, but Lee was determined to save as many of
them as possible. Then one day, when people wanted them again, the stories could be retold.
Lee started to write down the stories, one by one, and put them in a big box for
safekeeping. Lee wrote "The Story Box" on the lid, so as not to forget what was inside.
Some of the stories that went into the box were so old that Lee had to concentrate for
days, remembering all the details before printing them out carefully on sheets of paper.
Some were so new that Lee had to learn them quickly and write them down on whatever
was at hand, so they wouldn’t slip away unnoticed.
Eventually, Lee was sure that all the stories ever told were in The Story Box, and just
in time, because almost no one remembered any more that stories were once a part of everyday life.
By this time, Lee had grown up and was raising a family, but no matter how busy the
days were, Lee always made time to visit The Story Box, to read and remember the wonders inside.
Each time Lee finished reading, back The Story Box would go, to the very center of the
very top shelf in the closet, and Lee’s children grew curious about the big box that held Lee’s attention,
yet was so far out of their reach.
Sometimes, the children would draw close as Lee read from the papers in the mysterious
box, straining to understand the words forming silently on Lee’s lips.
Sometimes, Lee would fall asleep holding one or two of the pages, and the children
would grow bold and slip the sheets from Lee’s grasp.
Eagerly, they would gaze upon the words preserved so long ago, concentrating on the
unfamiliar names and places, and struck with wonder at the mention of creatures that were magical and
mystical. The children wondered why, of all the places in the world, these chronicles had come to live
in Lee’s closet.
Mystified, the children slipped the pages back into place before Lee awoke, never
suspecting that Lee watched them from beneath eyelids eager to fly open and drink in their awestruck
faces.
Lee knew that allowing the children to discover The Story Box in secret would certainly
keep their interest aroused, and lead them, one day, to rediscover the magic of stories.
Lee was right! One day, the children’s curiosity overcame their caution, and when Lee
wasn’t looking they sneaked to the closet and stood on the back of a big chair.
Reaching up to the very center of the very top shelf, they took the box from its special
place and set it on the floor.
"The Story Box," they read.
“What’s a Story?” they asked each other, unaware that Lee had stepped into the room and
discovered their secret adventure.
"Here," said Lee, "I can tell you."
Lee picked up The Story Box and carried it outside, where Lee and the children could
sit together on the soft grass.
"A Story," Lee began, "is what you tell someone when what you’re saying is very
important."
"Oh," the children said, disappointed. "It’s like a lecture. Or a sermon at church."
"Not at all," Lee assured them. "It’s a way of telling a secret, without coming right
out and saying it."
"Is it a riddle?" the children asked.
"Sometimes, but not always," answered Lee. "A Story is a way of making sure what you
say will be remembered."
And with a gentle smile, Lee lifted the lid off The Story Box and began to read …
Lee kept the children enthralled all afternoon, and as the stories came to life on the
pages in Lee’s hands, reading gave way to telling, and even the oldest stories were made young again as
Lee told them to a generation of children who had never heard them before.
Soon, other children noticed that something was happening there at Lee’s home and they
gathered around to listen, too, and the stories were separated only by silence as the children all held
their breath, waiting for whatever story would be revealed next.
The children went home and told their parents about The Story Box, and their parents
grew quiet, and remembered, and realized that something important had been missing from their lives for
a long time, something their own children had just discovered and returned to them.
Soon, the grown-ups started coming by to listen, too, and as they listened, they began
to remember the stories they’d heard when they were young.
They wrote down those stories, and brought them to Lee to keep in The Story Box. The
stories were already there, of course, but each story someone brought was just a little different from
the stories Lee had collected, because stories are shaped by the people who share them, and change just
a bit with each retelling.
Time went by, and Lee grew too old to carry The Story Box, now that it had so many
stories from so many people in it. Lee asked the children to become the guardians of the box, and
instantly, a whole community of Story Keepers was created!
The first thing they did was look at The Story Box with a certain amount of concern. It
was old, and worn, and so tattered that it didn’t really do justice to the beautiful stories it
contained.
The Story Keepers took light and color, sunshine and moon glow, and painted another
Story Box, bigger and stronger, to hold all the stories.
The new Story Box made such an impressive sight that no one wanted to keep The Story
Box in a closet any more. They wanted to send The Story Box out into the world so everyone could enjoy it!
And that’s just what they did. They sent The Story Box to hospitals where its stories
eased people’s suffering, and they sent it to schools where it gave students the knowledge of many
generations. The Story Box brought laughter and magic everywhere it went.
And everywhere it went, people wanted to be sure their stories were in it, so when
The Story Box was sent further on its way, it was always a little heavier with the joy and the love
that accompanied each of the stories.
Soon there were so many stories in The Story Box that they couldn’t be kept in just
one box, or two … or even ten!
People were so eager to share their stories that they made their own Story Boxes, and
sent them to friends in distant cities and lands who were inspired, in turn, to share the stories as
they had learned them. For all their differences, the stories showed again and again how people all
over the world are so very much alike.
Now you know one of the legends about The Story Box. I hope it helps you understand
how important your stories are, and that your understanding will lead you to begin a storytelling
tradition of your own in the New Year, sharing the stories you love with the people you love. |
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