A Story for the Holidays

from Jacqueline

It was in good old Target, in July, that I saw the first round of holiday season accoutrements at the checkout. Red plastic bags with a design of white snowflakes. It was 95 degrees outside. I’m more old fashioned. I like the Holidays to start closer to December, and I like the twelve days of Christmas, along with the tradition of leaving the tree adorned and in place until January 6th. And although we say “Happy Holidays,” I’m sorry, I’m more of a “Merry Christmas” person, given that where I grew up, the only other celebration was the winter ritual of Saturnalia – there were a few pagans lurking in those villages, you know. And frankly, I lean more towards celebrating the season rather than the event, with it’s tinsel-laden opportunities to reach out to those near and far with cards, emails, gifts, parties, telephone conversations and good cheer.

The newspapers – online and paper – tend to come up with the “feel good” stories at this time of year, those human interest snippets that make the heart sing or, perhaps, urge us to action for those less fortunate. This week I read a story about an organization in the UK which makes it possible for soldiers based overseas – and we know where most of them are at the moment, Afghanistan – to record stories for their children. Here’s what it says on the website:

“Across Afghanistan are secret caches of The Gruffalo, tattered and dusty copies of the children’s book hidden safely in British army rucksacks. While soldiers recover from the latest bout of fighting, army padres poke their heads through desert tents, asking if anyone wants to read a bedtime story to their children, 4,000 miles away.

Another favourite spot for recording is a British army ammunitions compound, where a dog-eared copy of The Night Before Christmas is the most popular right now. Soldiers sit alone with their book amid the stacks of bullets and explosives, whispering into a microphone about how “the children were nestled all snug in their beds”. Meanwhile, the warrant officer guards the door.

These recordings, edited free of sandstorm wind and the constant beating of helicopter blades, are now being played to soothe thousands of British babies, children, and teenagers missing their fathers this Christmas.

It’s part of a new service called Storybook Soldiers, offered by volunteers in the Army to try to close the family fracture caused by the conflict in Afghanistan. Although soldiers can send occasional e-mails and make even more occasional satellite phone calls, thousands of families have discovered that there is nothing more evocative than the sound of a parent’s voice, reading.”


I know that in both the USA and UK, military personnel are not drafted, it is their choice to serve in this way (though for many their choices are limited), but whether you support or abhor this war, the thought of a parent serving in the unforgiving terrain of Afghanistan reading a story for their child thousands of miles away makes the soul ache.

But there is something else, which as writers we are connected to in a fundamental way, and that is – once again – the power of story. Stories connect people, they give us another way to look at the world, to understand what has come to pass and what the future may hold. Stories bind communities and bring people together in so many ways. For all the ups and downs of the business, being a storyteller is as good as it gets, for my money.

So, with that in mind, who are you giving books to this holiday season, and what did you choose for them?

And if you see one of those bins where you can leave a gift for a child, or a soldier ... a book is a pretty good idea.