She says she heard of a story that the animals can talk at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve. The animals are able to rejoice at the miracle that happened on that night long ago. Her Grandmother used to tell the story about the hen who talked to the rest of the animals in the barn....
Or...was it is simply Christmas Magic.
Her Grandmother was right you know. We can talk for a moment at the stroke of midnight. But we can talk at other times if our humans care to listen carefully.
She came to us all bundled against the chill and the damp air this night. She opened that gate and stood quietly under the moonlight.
I walked up.
She pulled her mitten off and reached for my neck. I moved in close and breathed softly on her shoulder and then put my muzzle next to her ear.
"Believe," I whispered, "Believe." She sighed and slowly put her arms around my neck and gave me a long endearing hug.
She may have murmured something into my fur. It sounded like, "I do."
We stood like that in the silver light for a few minutes. Clouds moved across the sky and the silver light blinked out. I heard her catch her breath and then she stood back.
The spell was broken and I blinked and snorted.
But she KNEW. She knew. I saw tears of joy in her eye and I know at that moment our souls had touched and we'd always know.
The Animals’ Christmas Eve
In the barn on Christmas Eve, after all the people leave,
The animals in voices low, remember Christmas long ago.
One small hen, upon her nest, softly clucks to all the rest:
“Little chicks, come gather near. A wondrous story you will hear.”
The Animals’ Christmas Eve, a Little Golden Book, by Gale Wiersum and illustrated by Jim Robison.
