Stories for Children

Many years ago in the country we now call Britain, there lived a boy named Patrick. He was about sixteen years old and lived in a little stone house near the sea, with his mother and father. One afternoon, when Patrick was working in a field, men came in fast boats. They were rough men, and they took young Patrick away across the cold grey water to a green country called Ireland. In Ireland, Patrick became a slave. He had to keep sheep on a hillside, far from any house. He was lonely. He was cold. He did not know if his family would ever find him. But on that hillside, with only the sheep around him and the wind in the grass, Patrick remembered something his mother had taught him. He remembered to pray. So Patrick prayed — at sunrise, at midday, at the going down of the sun, and even sometimes in the middle of the night, while the sheep slept and the stars came out. God listened. Patrick was not alone on the hillside. God was there too. One day, after six long years, Patrick heard a quiet voice tell him to go home. So he walked many miles to the sea, found a boat, and went home. His mother and father were overjoyed. But here is the surprising part of the story. After some years, Patrick heard another voice — calling him back. Back to Ireland. Back to the very country where he had been a slave. Back to the very people who had taken him. Why? Because Patrick wanted to tell them about Jesus. He wanted them to know that they were loved by God, just as God had been with him on the hillside. So Patrick went. He walked all over Ireland, and he told the people about Jesus, and they listened. They loved him. To this day, every March, people remember Saint Patrick — and many of them wear green, because of the green hills where Patrick first learned to pray. The end.

Long ago, in a town called Myra by the sea, there lived a man named Nicholas. He was a bishop, which meant he was a kind of pastor, and he wore a white robe and a tall hat with a cross on it. But Nicholas had a secret. Even though he was an important person, he loved very much to do small, secret good things — and not be seen. In that town, there lived a father with three daughters. They were a good family, but they had become very, very poor. The father was sad, because in those days, when a girl got married, her family was supposed to give her a small gift of money to help her start a new home. And this father had no money at all. He worried that his daughters would never be able to leave home and have happy lives. Nicholas heard about this family. He thought and thought about how to help. He did not want them to know it was him. He did not want anyone to thank him. He only wanted the daughters to be all right. So Nicholas put three small gold coins into a little leather bag. That night, when everyone was asleep, he crept very quietly to the family's house. He found a window where the moonlight fell, and he tossed the bag gently inside. The next morning, the father found the bag of gold on the floor! He could not believe it. He looked at the sky and thanked God. His oldest daughter would be able to marry her sweetheart now. A few weeks later, Nicholas came back. He tossed in a second bag of gold for the second daughter. And after that, a third bag for the third daughter. The father was so amazed that he hid behind a bush one night, and he saw Nicholas creep up to the window. The father ran out to thank him. But Nicholas only smiled, put his finger to his lips — quiet, he said — and walked away into the dark. From that day on, all over the world, people have told the story of the bishop who gave gifts in secret. We call him Saint Nicholas. And in some countries today, on his feast day, parents leave little gifts for children in their shoes or on their windowsills — and the children laugh, because they remember Saint Nicholas the kind one. The end.

Long ago, on the warm island of Sicily, there was a girl named Lucy. Her name comes from the word for light — *lux* — and that is how everyone remembered her, because her smile was the brightest thing in the room. Lucy was a Christian. She loved Jesus very much. She used to help the poor people in her town. She would bring them bread, and warm soup in winter, and small things to make their houses happier. In those days, being a Christian was not always easy. Some people in the town did not like that Lucy refused to worship the old Roman gods. They tried to make her stop being a Christian. But Lucy was as steady as a candle on a still table. She said, *I cannot stop loving Jesus. He is my light.* Many years after Lucy lived, in countries very far north — in Sweden and Norway and Denmark — winter is very, very dark. The sun rises late and sets early. The snow piles up. And on the longest, darkest mornings of December, children wake up to find that someone has put a single candle in the window. In many of those houses, on Saint Lucy's feast day, the oldest girl wakes up early. She puts on a long white dress. She makes warm sweet buns and coffee. And she carries a tray to her parents' room — with a small crown of candles on her head, because Lucy carried the light of Christ even in the dark. When the children eat the buns and drink the warm coffee and watch the candles flicker, they remember the brave girl from far away in sunny Sicily, who once said: *I cannot stop loving Jesus. He is my light.* And they remember that no matter how dark the morning is, the light always comes back. The end.

In a little town in Italy called Assisi, there once lived a young man named Francis. His father was rich. Francis used to wear fine clothes and ride a fine horse. He used to laugh with his friends and play music in the evenings. But one day, Francis stopped on the road and saw a very poor man asking for food. Francis gave him a coin. After that, Francis could not stop thinking. He thought, why do I have so much, when this man has so little? Where is Jesus in this? Francis began to live very simply. He gave away his fine clothes. He put on a brown robe made of rough cloth, tied with a piece of rope. He walked everywhere instead of riding. He ate whatever people gave him. And he was happier than he had ever been. Francis loved the world around him. He thought every creature was a brother or sister, made by the same God. He called the sun *Brother Sun*. He called the moon *Sister Moon*. He called the wind *Brother Wind*. He called water *Sister Water*. He sang a song about all of them, praising God. Francis also loved the birds. One day he stood in a field where many small birds had gathered. He preached to them. He told them to thank God for the air to fly in and the seeds to eat and the trees to make their nests in. The birds did not fly away while Francis was talking. They listened. There is even a story that one time a fierce wolf was scaring a town, and Francis went out to meet the wolf, and he spoke to him kindly, and made friends with him. The wolf became gentle and would not hurt anyone after that day. Francis showed us that every creature is loved by God. The bird at your window. The cat that purrs in your lap. The little bug on the wall. They are all made by the same God who made you. When you go outside today, look at one creature — a bird, a beetle, a leaf moving in the wind — and say, in your heart, *Thank you, God, for making this.* That is what Saint Francis would say. And Brother Sun would smile, and Sister Moon would smile too. The end.

Long ago, in a part of the world we now call Algeria, there lived a Christian mother named Monica. She had a son named Augustine, and she loved him very, very much. When Augustine was a little boy, Monica taught him to pray. She read him the Bible. She showed him how to be kind to the people in their town. Augustine was bright and clever — he learned everything quickly. But when Augustine grew up, he went away to a big city for school. And in the big city, Augustine forgot many of the things his mother had taught him. He stopped praying. He made friends with people who did not love Jesus. He decided he was too smart and too important to be a Christian. Monica was so sad. She missed her son's heart. She knew he was clever, but she could see that he was not happy, even though he had everything he wanted. So Monica did the one thing she knew how to do. She prayed. She prayed every morning. She prayed every evening. She prayed when she was washing the dishes. She prayed when she was kneading bread. She prayed at the candle in the night when she could not sleep. She kept a long list of all the things she asked God for Augustine — that he would be happy, that he would be honest, that he would come back to Jesus. This went on for years. Many, many years. Almost twenty years. And then, one day, in a faraway garden in Italy, Augustine sat on a bench under a tree. He was crying. Somehow, all his clever ideas had not made him happy. He had everything, and yet he was empty. He heard a child singing in the next garden, and the song said: *Take it and read, take it and read.* So Augustine picked up a Bible and opened it. He read one sentence. He read it again. And in that moment, he gave his whole heart to Jesus. When Augustine wrote his mother a letter telling her what had happened, Monica wept and wept. She had prayed for so long. And God had heard her every prayer, even the ones she could not put into words. We remember Saint Monica now whenever a mother or a grandmother is praying for someone she loves. The waiting is hard. The praying is long. But God hears. The end.

Long ago, in the hills near a small town called Bethlehem, there was a boy named David. He had seven older brothers, so he was the one given the smallest job. He watched the family sheep all day. At first, watching sheep sounds boring. But David found it was not boring at all. He learned how the sheep liked to stay together. He learned how to find them when they wandered. He learned how to scare away a wolf with a sling and a smooth stone. And in the long quiet hours, David began to sing. He made up songs about the stars. He made up songs about the grass. He made up songs about God. The sheep listened. The wind carried the songs across the valley. Many years later, David became the king of Israel. He won battles. He built a city on a hill. He ruled for a long time. But the songs from the hillside never left him. He wrote them down, and they became the Book of Psalms. When you hear someone in church sing 'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,' that is one of David's songs. He wrote it because he had been a shepherd. He knew what a good shepherd does. And he knew that God was an even better shepherd than he himself had been. Sometimes the small work God gives you when you are young is the work that teaches you who he is. The end.

Long ago, in a city called Babylon, there lived a young man named Daniel. He worked for the king. He was honest. He was kind. He was so good at his job that the king made him one of the most important helpers in the whole kingdom. But other helpers were jealous. They wanted Daniel out of the way. So they thought of a trick. They knew that Daniel prayed to God three times every day, by the window of his room. So they made a new law: anyone who prayed to anyone except the king would be thrown into a den of lions. When Daniel heard about the new law, he did not get scared. He did not hide. He did not stop praying. He went to his room, opened his window, and prayed three times that day, just as he always had. The jealous men reported him. The king was very sad, because he loved Daniel. But the law was the law. Daniel was thrown into the lions' den, and a big stone was rolled over the door. The king did not sleep that night. As soon as the sun rose, he ran to the den and called out, 'Daniel, has your God been able to save you?' From inside, Daniel called back, 'O king, live for ever. My God sent his angel, and shut the lions' mouths, and they have not hurt me.' The king was overjoyed. Daniel came out without even a scratch. When you do the right thing because you love God, you may sometimes find yourself in a hard place. But God is with you in the hard place. The Lord can shut the mouths of any lion he chooses to shut. The end.

Long ago, there was an older woman named Naomi. Her husband and her two sons had all died. Naomi was very sad. She decided to go back to the country where she grew up — a country called Bethlehem. Naomi had two daughters-in-law, the wives of her sons. Their names were Orpah and Ruth. Naomi told them, 'You are young. Go back to your own families. I will travel home alone.' Orpah hugged Naomi and went back home. But Ruth held on. She would not let go. She said the most beautiful sentence in the whole Bible. She said: 'Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.' That means, 'Where you go, I will go. Where you sleep, I will sleep. Your family is my family. Your God is my God.' So Ruth walked the long road with Naomi to Bethlehem. When they got there, Naomi was old and tired. So Ruth went out to the fields every day to gather grain that the harvesters had left behind. That was how poor people fed themselves in those days. A kind farmer named Boaz noticed Ruth. He noticed how hard she worked. He noticed how she had given up her old life to help her mother-in-law. Boaz fell in love with Ruth, and they got married. Many years later, Ruth and Boaz had a great-grandson named David — the same boy who later became king and wrote the Psalms. And many more years later, from David's family, came Jesus. This is how God uses one kind person's promise to change the whole story. Sometimes the bravest love is just staying with someone when no one else will. The end.

One day, Jesus told a story to the people who were listening to him. 'There was a man who was walking from the city of Jerusalem to a town called Jericho,' Jesus said. 'On the road, robbers came and hurt him very badly. They took his money and his clothes. Then they ran away. The poor man lay on the side of the road, hardly breathing. First, a very important religious man came down the road. He saw the hurt man. He crossed to the other side and walked right past. Then, another religious man came along. He saw the hurt man too. He also crossed to the other side and walked right past. Finally, a Samaritan came down the road. Samaritans were people that other people in those days did not like at all. But this Samaritan saw the hurt man. He felt very, very sorry for him. The Samaritan stopped. He cleaned the man's wounds. He poured oil on them. He put the man on his own donkey. He walked all the way to the next inn. He paid the innkeeper to take care of the man until he was better.' Jesus stopped telling the story. He looked at the people. He asked, 'Which of those three men was a neighbour to the man who was hurt?' Everyone knew the answer. It was the Samaritan, even though he was the one no one expected. Jesus said: 'Go, and do thou likewise.' That means, go and do the same. When we see someone hurting — even someone we don't know, even someone we wouldn't expect to help — we are called to stop, to kneel down, to be the neighbour. The end.

In a town called Jericho, there lived a man named Zacchaeus. Zacchaeus was very, very short. Even when he stood on his tiptoes, he was shorter than everyone else. Zacchaeus was a tax collector. He was not very popular. In those days, tax collectors often took more money than they should and kept the extra. People did not like Zacchaeus much, because they thought he had cheated them. One day, Jesus was walking through Jericho. A big crowd had gathered to see him. Zacchaeus wanted very much to see Jesus too. But there were so many people, and Zacchaeus was so short, that he could not see anything but the backs of taller people. So Zacchaeus had an idea. He ran ahead. He climbed up into a sycamore tree on the road Jesus would walk on. He sat on a branch and waited. When Jesus got to the tree, he looked up. He saw Zacchaeus sitting in the branches. And Jesus called out, 'Zacchaeus! Come down. I am going to your house today.' Zacchaeus could not believe it. Of all the people in Jericho, Jesus had chosen him — the short, unpopular tax collector — to be his host for dinner that day. Zacchaeus scrambled down the tree. His heart was so full. And when he had Jesus in his house, he stood up and said, 'Lord, I will give half of all I own to the poor. And if I have cheated anyone, I will pay them back four times what I took.' Jesus smiled and said, 'Today, salvation has come to this house.' No one is too small for Jesus to see. No one is too far up a tree for Jesus to call by name. And when Jesus calls you, the right answer is always: come down quickly, and bring him home. The end.

Jesus once told a story about a shepherd who had a hundred sheep. Every evening, the shepherd brought his sheep home and counted them. One, two, three, all the way up to a hundred. He wanted to make sure none was missing. One evening, the shepherd counted, and he counted, and he stopped at ninety-nine. He counted again. Still only ninety-nine. One little sheep was missing. Now, the shepherd had ninety-nine sheep already safe at home. He could have said, 'Ninety-nine is plenty. The one will probably come back on its own.' But he did not. He made sure the other ninety-nine were safe. Then he picked up his lantern and his walking stick, and he went out into the dark to look for the one little sheep. He looked behind every rock. He looked in every valley. He called the sheep's name. He kept walking and walking, even when he was tired. At last, he found the little sheep. It was caught in a thorn bush. It was scared. It was scratched. The shepherd gently freed it. He lifted the little sheep onto his shoulders. He carried it home all the way back to the fold. When he got home, he called all his friends and neighbours together. He said, 'Rejoice with me. I have found the sheep that was lost.' Jesus said, 'There is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner that turneth to the Lord.' You and I are the little sheep. Sometimes we wander. Sometimes we get caught in thorns. But the shepherd does not give up. He comes looking. And when he finds us, he lifts us on his shoulders and carries us home, and there is rejoicing in heaven that night. The end.

Joseph was the eleventh son of a man named Jacob. Joseph's father loved him very much, and one day he gave Joseph a beautiful coat with many bright colors. When Joseph's older brothers saw the coat, they were jealous. Joseph also had dreams from God — dreams about being important one day. He told his brothers about the dreams, which made them even more jealous. One day, the brothers were so angry that they did a very bad thing. They sold Joseph as a slave to a caravan of traders going to Egypt. Then they told their father that Joseph had been killed by a wild animal. Their father was heartbroken. In Egypt, Joseph worked hard. He was kind. He was honest. He trusted God even when everything seemed wrong. But he was put into prison for something he did not do, and stayed there for years. Then one night, the king of Egypt had a strange dream. No one could tell him what it meant. Someone remembered that Joseph could help understand dreams. So Joseph was brought from prison to stand before the king. Joseph said, 'It is not me, but God who gives the meaning of dreams.' Then he explained: the king's dream meant that Egypt would have seven years of plenty, then seven years of famine. The king should store up food during the good years, so that everyone would have food during the bad years. The king was so impressed that he put Joseph in charge of the whole country. Joseph saved up food, and when the famine came, Egypt had bread when no one else did. People came from far away to buy food — including Joseph's own brothers. They did not recognize him. When Joseph saw them, he wept. Then he forgave them. He said, 'You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good — to save many lives.' Joseph brought his whole family to live safely in Egypt. They were together again. The hard story had become a good story, because God had been in it the whole time. Sometimes our lives feel like long, hard stories. But God is writing the whole book. He knows where the good chapters are. The end.

One day, Jesus held up a tiny seed. It was smaller than the head of a pin. It was the smallest seed anyone in the crowd had ever seen. 'This,' Jesus said, 'is a mustard seed. Look how small it is.' The people leaned forward to see. 'But when you plant this little seed in the ground,' Jesus said, 'it grows. It grows into a plant. The plant grows taller and taller, until it is bigger than all the other plants in the garden. It becomes so big that the birds of the air come and rest in its branches.' Jesus smiled. He said, 'The kingdom of heaven is like this seed.' That means: when God begins something in your heart, it can look very small. Just a thought. Just a kind action. Just a single prayer. So small that no one notices. But God knows how to grow things. He waters the small thing. He gives it sunshine. He brings rain. And one day, when you look back, you find that the small thing has become a big thing — a place where many can rest. Never be sad about a small beginning. The Lord loves small beginnings. Small seeds are how God plants kingdoms. The end.

A long time ago, in a small town called Nazareth, there lived a young woman named Mary and a kind carpenter named Joseph. They were going to be married. One day, the ruler of the land sent out a law. Everyone had to travel to the town where their family had come from, to be counted. Joseph's family came from a small town called Bethlehem. So Joseph and Mary had to go. The trouble was, Mary was going to have a baby very soon. The baby would be Jesus — the Son of God. The angel had told her so. But the ruler did not know that. The trip was about eighty miles long. That is a long way to walk when you are about to have a baby. Mary climbed onto a little donkey. Joseph walked beside, holding the donkey's rope. They went up hills. They went down into valleys. They camped under olive trees at night. They drank from cold streams in the morning. When they finally arrived in Bethlehem, the town was full. So many people had come to be counted that every house was packed. Joseph knocked on door after door. 'Is there any room?' he asked. 'My wife is about to have a baby.' But every door said, 'No, we are full.' At last, one kind innkeeper said, 'I have no room in the inn. But there is a stable in the back. It has a roof. It has clean straw. You can sleep there.' So Mary and Joseph went to the stable. And that very night, Jesus was born. Mary wrapped him in cloth and laid him in a manger — the box where the animals usually ate from. The King of all the earth came into the world in a stable, in a small town, on a cold night, because there was no room in the inn. When we celebrate Christmas, this is the story. The Lord did not need a palace. He came to a stable. He still comes to small places — to small rooms, to small hearts, to anywhere there is room for him. The end.

Long ago, in a kingdom called Persia, there was a king named Ahasuerus. He needed a new queen. So all the most beautiful young women in the land were brought to the palace. The king chose a Jewish girl named Esther. Esther became queen. But no one in the palace knew she was Jewish. Her uncle Mordecai had told her to keep it a secret for now. There was a very mean man in the palace named Haman. Haman hated Mordecai because Mordecai would not bow down to him. To get back at Mordecai, Haman made a terrible plan. He convinced the king to sign a law that said all the Jews in the kingdom should be killed on one day. Mordecai sent a message to Esther. 'You must go to the king. You must tell him you are Jewish. You must ask him to save your people.' Esther was very scared. In those days, no one was allowed to come to the king without being invited — not even the queen. If she went and the king was angry, she could be killed. Mordecai sent her another message. 'Esther, who knows whether you have come to be queen for such a time as this?' Esther thought about it. She prayed. She fasted for three days. Then she said, 'I will go. If I die, I die.' She put on her royal robes and walked down the long carpet to the king's throne. She did not know what would happen. She was trembling inside. The king looked up. He smiled. He held out his golden sceptre to her — that meant she was welcome. Over two careful banquets, Esther told the king everything. She told him she was Jewish. She told him about Haman's wicked plan. The king was furious with Haman. The Jews were saved. And Esther, the young woman who had been so afraid, became one of the bravest people in the whole Bible. Sometimes God puts us in a place at a special time, just so we can do the brave thing he needs done. When that day comes, we whisper Esther's prayer, and we go. The end.