Imagination

We used to live near a church that sponsored a live nativity scene every year. It was something we enjoyed, and we made it a Christmas family tradition every year.

The manger scene contained an “all-live” cast, ranging from angels to wise men and shepherds to Jesus, Mary and Joseph. The live nativity scene also included many of the animals you would find in or near a barn–a cow, a donkey, sheep, a lamb, and a goat. We were so touched by the peaceful relationship between man and beast we decided to bring our little dog with us one year. Suzette was her name.

Suzette was a sensitive little dog and a special part of our family. On arrival at the scene and sensing the joy and excitement of the moment, Suzette found it necessary to run to the powder room in this most natural of settings. She quickly took care of her business, then approached the manger scene with much curiosity.

Being a sensitive little dog, Suzette was able to assess with her nose, and at a glance, that Baby Jesus didn’t have it quite as good as she did. She noticed that Jesus lay resting in a crib of hay out in the open air. She remembered resting comfortably in a soft foam bed underneath a sturdy kitchen table within a climate-controlled habitat. Suzette, puzzled by this inequity, decided that some action on her part was needed to correct this perceived misfortune.

I know she thought, if I could only get close enough to give Baby Jesus a big slurp on his soft, rosy cheek, then all would be better for him. I’ve got to find a way.

As Suzette tried to maneuver her way to the manger, she was stopped by a very arrogant goat who said, “Stop, you peasant dog. Get behind the manger line! Only kindly animals are allowed to be a part of this prince’s court.”

Suzette retorted, “But I am a kindly canine, and I know how to behave around royalty.” She went on to say, “It’s part of Pekingese heritage to protect, honor, and serve those of such royal stature. It is my duty, as a princess, to come adore our new born king.”

The goat said, “You don’t look like royalty to me, and besides, if you were, you wouldn’t be allowed because beastly dogs are not permitted in this royal court.” Suzette nervously said, “What can I do, Mr. Goat, to prove to you that I am worthy to participate in this royal pageant?”

“Oh, stop the formalities. My name is Billy Goat. I’m the director of this slip-shod operation. Been doing this for the last five years. Sure, it’s hard to find kindly animals. And the ones I got, oh! Running late, failing to punch the clock, and taking too many bathroom breaks. I had to get rid of the chickens because of too much pecking. Enough of my bleating. Back to you, kid, I mean, beastly dog.”

Billy Goat continued, “You said something about being worthy? Well, none of us is worthy! It’s a matter of qualifying. You see, this is an animal nativity scene that goes on seven nights a week, through Christmas Eve. I need someone reliable. No nights off, no dinner breaks, and only one five-minute bathroom break per hour. Unless we get a no-show or a cancellation, there’s just no room for you on the set. Otherwise, it will take an act of God to get you in.”

Suzette, feeling somewhat resigned, said, “Can’t you pull some strings to get me in? I’ve got to get to Baby Jesus. I have a special gift for him.”

Billy replied, “Oh, stop wagging that tail! I’ll tell you what I’ll do, kid. Show up here every night at seven forty-five sharp. That’s fifteen minutes before curtain call. If I have an opening, I’ll try to work you in, kid. No promises. I’ll do what I can. Remember, you can’t be a dog in this pageant. You need to be ready to moo like a cow, baa like a sheep, hee-haw like a donkey, and if needed, God forbid, bleat like a goat. Nothing else will be acceptable. Otherwise, it will take an act of God to get you in.”

Suzette, with a glimmer of hope in her dark brown eyes, promised that she would be faithful in being there every night, prepared to substitute in a kindly animal role. That night, at home, she prayed that she would be given a sign, any sign, that it was proper for her to approach the Christ Child. With that thought, she fell peacefully asleep into pleasant doggie dreams.

It was Christmas Eve, the twelfth night of the nativity pageant. The weather was favorable, and the night was still. Suzette was prompt and ready to act, just like she had for the past eleven nights. Still a no for her on the Nativity set. But Suzette was hopeful and waiting to hear a stage call for her at any moment.

Suzette noticed that Moo Cow and Baa Sheep were a little under the weather. They sounded a little nasal, but they were there. She also knew that Nanny Goat had developed a cold and might not be able to perform. But she also knew this was the holiest of nights.

It was the night when the royal envoys from the East would arrive, led by the Christmas star. She was hoping and praying that she would be let in on the set. She was so excited that her little heart nearly pounded right out of her chest.

Seven forty-five was approaching, and director Billy Goat began his roll call of the cast. “Okay, everyone, please acknowledge your presence when I call your name.

“Moo Cow?” “Moo!” “Baa Sheep?” “Baa!” Nanny Goat?” “Naan!” “Hee Haw Donkey?” “Hee Haw!”

All were present, and the pageant began. All the kindly animals proceeded, one by one, into the manger set. They were followed by Joseph, with Mary carrying the infant Jesus wrapped securely in a blanket.

As Mary placed Jesus into the crib, a warm, glowing light surrounded the child, as he rested peacefully and comfortably in his bed.

A fleet of angels, floating mid-air, arrived dressed in robes that glistened like snow. As they hovered, each with folded hands, bowed in adoration before the holy child.

Next came the archangel Gabriel, carrying the Christmas star that would guide the shepherds and the special envoys from the East. The shepherds from the fields came first to pay their homage. Then came the royal guests from the East, each bearing a special gift and greeting to the Christ Child.

Suddenly, a light shone out over the crowd and beamed into the face of Suzette. She knew, then, this was the sign for which she had hoped, the light to guide her to the baby, Jesus.

She slowly and reverently approached the Christ Child and bowed down with paws stretched out, waiting anxiously and hopefully for the baby to acknowledge her presence. The baby smiled as she rose up with her paws on the side of the crib. He touched her nose, and she then, from the warmth she felt inside, knew that she was touched by God himself. She gazed at the baby in utter amazement, and so did the other kindly animals and kindly people, too.

Suzette knew this was her chance to do what she had come there to do. She moved forward with paws upside the crib. She looked at the baby, gave a quick slurp, and off she ran in glee. Suzette beamed from ear to ear. She knew she had just slurped the newborn King.

Copyright 2025 Frank Clark

333 Elm Street 

Four rockers on the porch have been there for years. They never rock, even in a gust of wind. No movement, remain still. The house appears vacant, as if nothing’s there. But is that so?     

It’s quite curious that the four rockers on the porch remain still. Even when the wind blows strongly, they exhibit no motion. One might ponder the reason behind their unmoving state. Perhaps there’s a unique reason for their lack of movement. Their stillness certainly sparks intrigue.

It has been reported by kin and neighbors nearby that, when walking past the house on a late afternoon stroll, you could hear the sound of creaks, as if the rockers were rocking, but the rockers remained still. There’s no proof of these occurrences. The auditory sensation of rocking without any visible movement of the rockers can be quite perplexing. Such occurrences can be unnerving and quite haunting. 

Understanding the source of these sounds, even when the rockers are still, adds to the intrigue. It is a curious detail that can spark much thought and interest. But maybe the legend is really about the house itself. The rockers could be only a symptom of what is ailing the house.

An empty house yearns for the life and activity that inhabitants bring. This house was once a home filled with life and purpose. Now it has none. A house with no dwellers goes into disrepair and becomes derelict. The welcome placard on the door is an invitation for anyone to enter, anyone to give it life again. Should anyone dare enter? 

Elder neighbors and kin would tell haunting tales about the house. One consistent story was about its former dwellers, Rupert and Emma Whippoorwill. Much has been said about them. They were a sorta odd couple. They were once active and lively. Rupert and Emma were avid birdwatchers, but their fancy was birdcalling. They enjoyed mimicking the sound of birds. Actually, it’s how they conversed. 

Rupert “whip-poor-WILL.”                      Emma  “whip-poor-WILL.”

Rupert “Zee Zee Zoo Zoo.”                      Emma  “Zee Zee Zoo Zoo.”

Rupert “hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo.”                    Emma  “hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo.”                

Rupert “witchity-witchity-witchity.”            Emma  “witchity-witchity-witchity.”

Rupert “Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw.”                  Emma “Caw-Caw, Caw-Caw.”           

In the late afternoons, Rupert and Emma would leisurely relax in the rockers on the front porch, and lounging in the other two rockers were their two beloved pets, Twinkles the cat and Truffles the dog. All four rockers were rocking and all was well and good. 

Occasionally Rupert and Emma would entertain children in the neighborhood with their bird calls. The youngsters were just fascinated by the authentic sound of each bird. They even tried to mimic the bird calls themselves. Even Twinkles and Truffles would make their own sounds.

Twinkles would sound “Meow, Meow.”  Truffles would respond “Ruff, Ruff.” 

After a while, the bird sounds became so obnoxious that all decided to call it a night.   

Another oddity about the Whippoorwills is that they never invited anyone inside their home. Even though there’s a welcome sign on the front door, no one has ever entered the house. Could it be that the couple just wanted to maintain their private space or could it be for some other reason? Could it be something about the house itself?

Many have felt drawn to the house. It has some sort of magnetism that just pulls you to its door, but no one knows why.  It’s been rumored that once you are drawn inside the house, you cannot get out. You are trapped and will never get out and will be tormented by bird calls forever. 

One late evening a thunderstorm moved in with howling and forceful winds. Trees were swaying furiously back and forth.  Lightning strikes were all over. Wind chimes rang rapidly, but the rockers on the porch remained still and unaffected by the force of the wind. 

Suddenly the interior lighting of the house dimmed and finally went out from a strike of lightning. The only movement inside were ghostly figures of a man and a woman and of a cat and a dog. The only sounds heard were faint and frail. Murmurs from within withered whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will. 

And yes, the empty rockers will rock only when the house allows them to rock. Remember this house is desperate for life again and will do anything in its power to hold you there. 

“whip-poor-WILL,” ” whip-poor-WILL.”

Copyright 2025 Frank Clark