Parables of Love from Mom

By Chamisa Loraine Howard

When my children were small and my husband in college, I continued to recreate the stories my parents told me as a child about animals having personalities and their teaching abilities. I used the stories to teach my children moral principles through fables. They knew if they went to bed by 8:00 p.m., they would get another chapter of some favorite pretend stories, spun out night after night, chapter by chapter. Many of these stories led to daytime adventures as the kids lifted up flat rocks in search of Harvey Rabbit's magic hole with the candy factory. They made horn toads into pets and few a mouse in box fitted with a running wheel. In 1989, I decided to write down some of those favorite stories to give my now grown children as a Christmas present. My artist sister illustrated these stories for me. The compilation of stories has been sitting in my cedar chest for 30 years, until recently, when I had them re-printed for my now growing family of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. God bless each and every child out there, that they may come to know in their head and heart that we are all God's angels placed here on earth with extraordinary abilities in order to love and bless each other's lives.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639037230

Book preview

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Parables of Love from Mom

Chamisa Loraine Howard

ISBN 978-1-63903-722-3 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63903-723-0 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Chamisa Loraine Howard, R.N.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Preface

Introduction

Prologue

The Great Treasure Hunt

The Birth of Christmas

The Day the Animals Talked

Santa and His Elves

The Story of Two Christmas Trees

Five Special Presents

The True Story of Easter

Happy Easter

The Treasured Book

The Story of the Broken Mirror

The Day the Little Lamb Learned Why

Jesus's Favorite Pet

The Magic Potion

The Most Powerful Force in the World

Val the Valentine Bunny

The Rainbow (1)

The Rainbow (2)

The Magic Carpet

Your Special Body

The Brownies in Our House

The Story of Two Horned Toads

The Mice and the Family Dog

The Story of the Worm Who Thought He Was Ugly

Bubble Gum the Invisible Elephant

The Story of the Big Dipper

About the Author

To Him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think (or write), to Him be the glory.

—Ephesians 3:20–21

To our Lord Jesus Christ, Master Teacher of inspirational stories and parables.

To my parents, Lloyd and Helen Howard, who gave me life, love, and the capacity to imagine.

A special thanks to my sister, Mary Helen Howard, for her illustrations.

Mary H. Howard, Illustrator

Preface

Basically, I didn't write this book. It wrote itself through life's adventures.

I am the eldest child of ten children born and raised on a ranch in North Hollywood, California, during the golden era of movie stars and cowboy heroes. As a child, I thought everyone knew the movie colony and their animals personally as I did. After all, I lived next door to the Weatherwax's, who raised all the Lassie dogs for the movies, and I rode my own horse side by side with famous cowboys in the '50s Hollywood Holiday Parade.

I came from a long line of storytellers, pioneers, and ranchers turned doctors; dentists; and nurses, including myself. My dentist uncle, Roy Buckmiller, had his office on Hollywood & Vine across from the Brown Derby, and my father's dental office was close by.

Among the vast array of dental chores, he also made dental veneers for the movie stars to give them that perfect smile. The tough-guy look of Humphrey Bogart's. It came from holding his fake teeth tightly under his lip so it wouldn't fall out when he talked. Modern techniques no longer require such things, but then I thought everyone knew the many Hollywood tricks for filming only perfection and beauty.

After World War II, Hollywood Hills was miles of citrus groves, farmlands, and ranches all filled with wildlife. My parents knew how to make up stories that gifted those animals with personalities and teaching ability. Horses were wise, jack rabbits could talk, gopher's dug holes to China, and horned toads with their crowned heads and golden bellies were the kings of the lower animal kingdom.

When my own children were small and my husband was in college, I continued to recreate those stories, teaching my children moral principles through fables much like Aesop's. They knew if they went to bed by 8:00 p.m. (so that the adults could have quiet time, but they didn't know that), they would get another chapter of some favorite pretend story, spun out night after night, chapter after chapter. For example, Harvey Rabbit got his name from the Puka in Jimmy Stewart's movie called by the same name, and Santa Claus was explained in terms of the story of Jesus. Many of those stories led to daytime adventures as the kids lifted up flat rocks in search of Harvey's—a magic hole with the candy factory, made horned toads into pets, and fed a mouse in a box fitted with a running wheel.

In 1989, I decided to write down some of those favorite stories to give my now-grown children as a Christmas present, and my artist sister, Mary Howard, illustrated those stories for me. That compilation of stories has been sitting in my cedar chest for thirty years until recently when I had them reprinted for my now growing family of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I happened to hear the ad about the Christian Faith Publishing Organization at the same time I picked up these copies from the printer and decided to submit this family journal to them in the hopes of planting seeds of hope, love, faith, and imagination to a much broader audience in this era of vast media overload. Even if I never make a dime or reach only one life to give them hope and faith in their God-given abilities, I will have succeeded.

God bless each and every child out there that they may come to know in their head and heart that we are all God's angels placed here on earth with extraordinary abilities in order to love and bless each other's lives, and this includes our pets.

Introduction

I grew up as a child during the 1940s in the San Fernando Valley, NE of Los Angeles. It was an area, at that time, of miles of orange groves and fields of sunflowers as far as the eye could see. Jack rabbits skipped through our front yard, and the warmth of the sun, the blue of the sky, set the scene for a child's own wonderland.

My own parents were deeply religious. It was an era before television or electronic media. In our isolation, we as the Howard children were entertained by our daddy's make-believe stories and our mother's creation of them into reality. We actually made the gingerbread man. Footprints of elves once ran across the kitchen sink. Jack rabbits became Easter bunnies. Animals could mysteriously talk. Rainbows had pots of gold-covered chocolate coins. Real licorice magically grew on bushes. A Valentine Bunny left wonderful treats at the door. Santa actually came to our house—red suit, white beard, and reindeer.

We memorized scriptures while eating Bible food or counting stars, trying to figure out exactly which one was heaven. We had real treasure hunts and family plays which reenacted various scriptural themes. It was a very idealistic childhood, a heavenly home on earth. It created within me the mindset of a loving world, and I learned to trust in a loving God.

My own capacity to recreate such a pastoral environment for my own children was a frank failure. But the stories and religious themes were passed on to that next generation, perhaps embellished and added upon by quite a measure. My own children became enmeshed within their mother's hope-filled philosophy. Stories were created and spun out to them, night after night, chapter after chapter, precept upon precept. Most of these stories are lost into the ethers of the past, but not all.

Now as Nana, the grandmother of their children, I find myself remembering once again ancient well-worn themes as I tell the stories to the new generation. In writing a few of them down, it is my fervent prayer to all who read them that they might come to appreciate more fully how deeply they are loved and what a rich heritage they come from, both mortal and divine.

In remembrance…you are nourished in the faith.

—1 Timothy 4:6

Prologue

When I was a little girl, I lived on a ranch. We had lots of animals on that ranch: chickens, turkeys, ducks, peacocks, and pigeons. We also had a horse, a couple of sheep, and a cow.

When I was eight years old, my father decided I was grown up enough to be responsible for feeding the horse and milking the cow. At first, this was an overwhelming chore. These animals were so big and scary. My wrists ached from the long chore of milking. The cow often stepped into the bucket of milk before I was through. I cried all the way through the milking chore. Finally with practice, I learned how to throw the hay, lock the cow into her stall by offering her molasses grain, and how to hold her leg with my left arm so that she wouldn't step into the milk bucket. My wrists got stronger, and before I knew it, I accomplished what at first seemed an impossible feat.

Then one Halloween day, I went to a party after school that the Primary (church) had. I enjoyed the party a lot but was a little scared of some of the costumes. I didn't get home from the party until after the sun had gone down. It was dark, and I was afraid to walk out to the barn by myself and milk the cow. I told my daddy I didn't want to milk the cow because I was too afraid of the dark. My father told me I would have to learn to not be afraid of the dark and to go milk the cow anyway because she was full and uncomfortable. Also, she was hungry, and besides that, all my little brothers and sisters would need the milk for their morning breakfast.

I didn't care. I was afraid. So my daddy gave me a flashlight and the bucket to milk the cow with and stood on the back porch with me. He told me to turn on the light and shine it down the path toward the barn and tell him what I saw. I turned on the flashlight and looked down the path. I see my swings in the backyard, I said.

Fine, said my father. Now hold the flashlight straight ahead and walk toward what you can see, the swings. I slowly and cautiously did as I was told. Pretty soon I was standing by my swing set. Then my father instructed me, Hold the flashlight further straight ahead down the path and tell me what you see.

I did as he told me and said, I can see the eucalyptus trees that line the field.

My father said, Fine, now keep the light straight ahead toward what you can see and walk to the eucalyptus trees. I did as my father told me to do. I walked with my flashlight straight ahead on the path and walked toward the trees.

When I got there, my father then yelled, Now what can you see if you shine the light straight down the path?

I yelled back so that he could hear me, I see the gate and the field ahead of me.

My father then said, Okay, now keep your flashlight up and walk toward the gate, open it, and walk into the field, and tell me what you see. I did as I was told until I was standing in the field with the flashlight. Then my father said, What do you see now when you shine the light on the path?

I told him, I see the barn and the cow standing next to it.

My father then said, Continue to shine the light straight ahead on the path and walk to the barn. I did as I was instructed until I then found myself at the barn door. My father then told me, Open the barn door, shine your light inside, and tell me what you see. I did as he told me to do and opened up the door, let the cow in, and saw her stall where I did the milking. I told my father what I saw.