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Karin Jäger has created a lovely Advent calendar: her fairy-tales and poems are set in Advent or wintertime and convey amusement as well as thoughtfulness for the season. In this book, the reader encounters many interesting characters like the Snow Girl or the Yule Lads who deliver presents to children in other countries instead of good old Santa. But Santa and the elves certainly are part of the journey too! Also, magical creatures like the purple-crowned fairy or the dabbling puck are to be met, or animals like the magpie Harakka who come across common people creating these most entertaining stories. One for each day of December up until Christmas!
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Karin JägerSanta Cluas, the Benebitzke and... 24 Stories and Poems in the Run-up to Christmas
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Impressum Text/Illustrations: © 2024 Copyright by Karin Jäger Cover: © 2024 Copyright by Karin Jäger Responsible for content: Karin Jäger, c/o Block Services, Stuttgarter Str. 106, D-70736 Fellbach, Germany for print: epubli – a service of Neopubli GmbH, Berlin, Germany
Run-up to Christmas starts on the first of December. This book runs along providing you with 24 chapters of Christmassy stories and poems and of wintry fairy-tales and rhymes. Read about the woodland sprite Benebitzke who cares about everything that happens in the forest. Meet Santa Cluas, the tart side of Santa Claus that rises when Santa Claus is at his wits' end. Get to know the Yule Lads who do the people of Iceland the honor of paying them a visit during the Christmas season. And let Mother Spitzer tell you about other figures and traditions which belong to Christmas here and in other places. Texts that are in line with the season open a door to contemplative and humorous entertainment – from the first of December all up to Christmas Eve!
Once upon a time, there was a wide, venerable treescape. The darkness of the woods was painted with shining whites because the cold forest was covered up and glistening with snow. Hidden and spoiled were now the treasures that the last summer had created, and the animals of the woods had to go hungry. Deer nibbled the greens of fir trees and elks stripped off bark. Mokús the squirrel still knew were it had hid its stock. But it had to dig with much effort through the depths of the snow to feed from the plenty of hazelnuts and acorns. Merle the blackbird would have liked to satisfy her hunger as well. But more than a few crumbs of broken nuts were not shared. In harsh times, it is: each for themselves, and generosity means starving yourself. Disheartened, one looked around for something to eat. The beauty of this desert full of light could make you desperate easily. Reynard the fox was roaming the forest and was also hungry. He was listening for living, scuttling paces under the dense bed of snow. But the mice did not want to get eaten and despite their own hunger were wary against their enemy. Where was something to be found that could fill the nagging hole in Reynard's stomach? If the hole got any bigger, the ruthless coldness would bite his bones and consume him nip by nip. The fox was wandering about the barren landscape and while his spirits sank, an idea rose from his mind like an evocation. If wishes come true when they are strong enough, then a little being, clad in red, would appear on the white blanket of winter. It would stand there, all quiet and shtum, and would wear a cloak that every animal of the forest knows, even though the woodland sprite does not show itself very often. Reynard almost believed that he could see the Benebitzke. Dressed in red, a little black hat on its head, it seemed to wait for something and could not be squinted away. When the Benebitzke noticed the fox, a smile broadened its mouth. At this moment, good old Merle also had espied the Benebitzke. While Reynard was still hesitant, the bird flew up and sat herself into a thornbush that had lost all its leaves. Red fruit was given from the hands of the Benebitzke. Frost had got the berries soft and mushy. The sylvan stripped the pips out of the body of one of them before eating the rose hip itself. Now, the fox tried also to enjoy the fruit. Hunger is an excellent seasoning. Avidly, Reynard ate berry after berry and tried not to think about Hiiri the mouse who sat nibbling on rose hip pips at the feet of the Benebitzke. He would not do so much as look at the mouse. With diligence, the fox picked the berries and as time went by, he felt that his stomach got full and fuller, and more and more forest animals found their way to the Benebitzke. Inside the wild brier, blackbirds and robins jittered pecking at the rose hips. On the grounds, Hiiri's family had gathered, and also the fat Mokús who before had not wanted to share was allowed to feast on the apparently inexhaustible abundance of berries. As long as the weak sunrays were lighting up the landscape, an endless row of exchanging guests were feeding at the Benebitzke. One hungry creature arrived and another went away, satisfied and at ease. When the darkness of evening came, the last ones with their stomachs full went on their way to find a hiding place for the night. The Benebitzke too went home. It whistled a doleful melody, and the woodland, charmed, was listening to it for a long time. Babotshka the butterfly, who still was resting in its cocoon between the thorns and who would only next spring fly for the very first time, was pleased by the peace and confidence which the Benebitzke had brought to this little piece of the world. Sometimes, only magic can save you; sometimes, kindness suffices.
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In some places at the river Moselle, the pinky is called Benebitzche, and the character of the woodland sprite Benebitzke was inspired by a popular German children's song by Hoffmann von Fallersleben (1798-1874) “Ein Männlein steht im Walde” (A little man is standing in the woods). It is a riddle giving the description of a little man standing on his own in the woods wearing a red cloak and a little black hat. While the first two stanzas ask who he might be, the third discloses his identity as the rose hip.
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Santa Claus badly wishes he had not drunken that milk. He does not care any longer for Christmas and its ilk. Santa Claus often wishes he could fend off requests And live free of restrictive demands and such pests. His job is to deliver presents for good chits. In return, they drive Santa out of his wits! Santa Claus wishes he could chug milk without trouble, No naughty exhaust and no pain to bend double. Santa Claus wishes it had all gone a different way. If only he had not taken interest in this special holiday! If instead, he had become a nurseryman, Cookies and milk would not be a duty, but on ban.
Santa Cluas then passes a mighty fart Taking off the hat he hates with all his heart. Santa Cluas had always thought it was too hot. He also never liked this Christmas story's plot. Why should he educate other people's kids? For now and for the Naughty List he calls it quits. Santa Cluas leaves gifts like they all had been good Treating kids as treasure like the whole world should. Santa Cluas wishes he had had earlier the guts To step out off that thing that really drives him nuts. Wishful thinking does not help, you got to take action. Then there will be less sorrow and more satisfaction.
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I am twitching on my chair Biting on my pen Moving words with care From one place to over there I am chewing jolly phrases Like "Happy Christmas" bare When it comes to "Happy New Year" I am spitting it with scare Blessings have no power The world seems beyond repair Then, is giving congrats not bad Is giving congrats even fair How does a blessing feel For someone without hope How does a blessing feel When you cannot cope With no hope for anything How could all of this still amend Therefore, I am still wishing for Merry Christmas And Goodwill To All Men.
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