The Little Baron’s Christmas Angel

By Curt H. von Dornheim

This is a delightful story for children of all ages, from eight to eighty. It is a tapestry of myth and memory. The fibers of myth are every color of the rainbow, and the fibers of memory are silver, white and gold.
As the Little Baron peered out into the winter afternoon, his thoughts drifted to his parents whom he missed dearly. His father had been called out of town on business concerning the family’s woolen mill earlier in the week and his Mother decided to go along to do some shopping. Unfortunately they became snowbound because the railroad tracks were frozen in deep snowdrifts. His faithful, large, old, orange cat, Mr. Tobels, nudged up against the Little Baron in an effort to comfort him. They had been buddies ever since the boy found him near the stables one cold and wet spring morning. He was very thin, very hungry, and very friendly. They immediately became inseparable friends. When the Little Baron asked his name, the old cat replied with a loud purr, which sounded like "tobel", therefore, he was called "Mr. Tobels".
Grandfather Baron came into the library, gently placed his arm around his grandson’s shoulder and invited him to join the others in the drawing room for the crowning event of the festive decoration, that of placing the Christmas Angel on top of the tree. As they entered the room they could hear familiar carols coming from the regal music box in the far corner. But its joyous sounds did not seem to cheer the Little Baron, for he could not imagine the holiday without his parents.
Nevertheless, everyone tried to cheer him as they unwrapped the many beautiful hand-blown glass ornaments. These had been handed down by Grandfather Baron’s family from generation to generation. He proudly brought them along when they came to live in America. Refreshments of cookies, nuts and dried fruit were brought in as the tree was trimmed with the greatest of care. Finally, Grandfather Baron very carefully unwrapped many layers of old faded crepe paper from the last ornament. When he had finished, he held in his hands a craftsman’s masterpiece of art. The exceedingly time glass angel being well over one hundred years old was hand painted in silver, white and gold. The folds in its robe seemed as if they surely were made of satin. Its golden hair was made of thinly spun glass fibers, which flowed freely in the air. The eyes were as blue as the sky and it’s face shone with joy. The arms were outstretched as if to embrace with love, and one could actually see the hundreds of tiny feathers in its graceful wings. The entire figure radiated peace.
The "ohs" and “ahs” from the household staff turned Christmas decorators could not be compared with the astonishment of the Little Baron, for he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. His grandfather carefully placed the angel in the boy’s hands. He cradled it caressingly, protectively. Then Grandfather led him up the steps to the balcony above, picked up his grandson, securely held him above the railing, thus allowing the boy to crown the tree by placing the Christmas Angel upon its’ point.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Curt H. von Dornheim
• Release date: Nov 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301946990

Curt H. von Dornheim

Curt H. von Dornheim is a well-traveled Creative Consciousness inspirational lecturer and teacher. He is also a published author, an organist and choral director plus a retired non-denominational minister.

Book preview

The Little Baron’s Christmas Angel

Book IX – Creative Consciousness Series

Curt H. von Dornheim

Copyright©Curt H. von Dornheim 2012

Published by Creative Consciousness Publications at Smashwords

Scanning, uploading and/or distribution of this book via the Internet, print, audio recordings or any other means without the permission of the Publisher is illegal and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and characters are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events or person(s), living or dead, are purely coincidental.

ISBN - 9781301946990

Copyright©2012 Curt H. von Dornheim

All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

Published By

Creative Consciousness Publications

Curt H. von Dornheim

Contact: [e-mail]

Little Baron’s Christmas Angel

Book IX – Creative Consciousness Series

By

Curt H. von Dornheim

Table of Contents

Synopsis

Chapter One - Christmas

Chapter Two – Grandfather

Chapter Three – Birthday

Chapter Four - Moving

Chapter Five – Cottage

Chapter Six – Holidays

Author’s Note

Other Books

Synopsis

This is a delightful story for children of all ages, from eight to eighty. It is a tapestry of myth and memory. The fibers of myth are every color of the rainbow, and the fibers of memory are silver, white and gold. It begins:

The Little Baron sat silently in the seat of the large leaded, glass window and peered out upon the grounds of the old manor house. He watched the snowflakes gently blanket white the garden below including the tall distant evergreens.

Chapter One

CHRISTMAS

The Little Baron sat silently in the seat of the large leaded, glass window and peered out upon the grounds of the old manor house. He watched the snowflakes gently blanket white the garden below including the tall distant evergreens. This was his most favorite room in the house, it was the library. Although in the evenings it was often occupied by his grandfather the Baron, in the afternoons it was his own private land of enchantment. There were books with pictures of faraway places and stories of adventure, which almost seemed impossible to really exist. It was the day before Christmas and the air was filled not only with great aromas coming from the kitchen and pantry, but also with the anticipation which comes only at this time of year.

The manor had been totally decorated earlier in the day by the loyal household staff. This had been an occasion which the late Baroness always enjoyed, unfortunately the Little Baron never knew his grandmother because she had passed on a few months before he was born. Garlands gracefully hung from the railings of the balcony above and poinsettias were placed upon around table in the entrance hall to act as festive, silent greeters. A tall Christmas tree had been chosen from the Baron’s forest with utmost precision, for it was the focal point in the drawing room since it was to stand guard over the gifts later that evening.

As the Little Baron peered out into the winter afternoon, his thoughts drifted to his parents whom he missed dearly. His father had been called out of town on business concerning the family’s woolen mill earlier in the week and his Mother decided to go along to do some shopping. Unfortunately they became snowbound because the railroad tracks were frozen in deep snowdrifts. His faithful, large, old, orange cat, Mr. Tobels, nudged up against the Little Baron in an effort to comfort him. They had been buddies ever since the boy found him near the stables one cold and wet spring morning. He was very thin, very hungry, and very friendly. They immediately became inseparable friends. When the Little Baron asked his name, the old cat replied with a loud purr, which sounded like tobel, therefore, he was called Mr. Tobels.

Grandfather Baron came into the library, gently placed his arm around his grandson’s shoulder and invited him to join the others in the drawing room for the crowning event of the festive decoration, that of placing the Christmas Angel on top of the tree. As they entered the room they could hear familiar carols coming from the regal music box in the far corner. But its joyous sounds did not seem to cheer the Little Baron, for he could not imagine the holiday without his parents.

Nevertheless, everyone tried to cheer him as they unwrapped the many beautiful hand-blown glass ornaments. These had been handed down by Grandfather Baron’s family from generation to generation. He proudly brought them along when they came to live in America. Refreshments of cookies, nuts and dried fruit were brought in as the tree was trimmed with the greatest of care. Finally, Grandfather Baron very carefully unwrapped many layers of old faded crepe paper from the last ornament. When he had finished, he held in his hands a craftsman’s masterpiece of art. The exceedingly time glass angel being well over one hundred years old was hand painted in silver, white and gold. The folds in its robe seemed as if they surely were made of satin. Its golden hair was made of thinly spun glass fibers, which flowed freely