World Storytelling Day
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From the beginning of recorded time, mankind has devised creative ways to tell stories. From verbal sounds and gestures to hieroglyphics on cave walls to the first alphabet, we have desired to communicate our experiences, our dreams, and discoveries of our world.
As we celebrate World Storytelling Day, I am proud to share again the talented and creative work of the young author, Elizabeth Baber. Her story, Listen and Remember, will make you feel like you are being warmed by a cozy fire, and listening to an ancient soul sharing wisdom and knowledge for you and for you to pass on.
I hope you enjoy this story, and share it with others! And please share with me stories that are meaningful to you. I’m here to listen.
Listen and Remember by Elizabeth Baber
When the sun touched the top of the east mountain, Annika set down the yoke of water pails and whistled across the field. Kono shook the grass from his fur as he rose from his watchful post near the edge of the herd, and trotted over to his favorite of the humans. As was their routine, Annika scratched the spot behind his ears that he couldn’t reach with his paws. Then she picked up the yoke again, and with her best friend at her heels, finished walking the path up to the house.
The water pails went to the kitchen, where Mother looked up with a smile and nod from the dough she was kneading for tomorrow’s bread.
Annika nodded back and moved on. She would be in third form at school this winter, and with age had come greater responsibilities. During the day, she minded the needs of the shepherds and did what errands Mother asked of her. While Father and the boys brought in the herds to settle for the night, Annika had a different task to occupy the time between supper and bed.
Kono always right behind her, just as he had been since he was the tiniest pup in his litter, Annika made her way to the chair that rocked steadily before the fireplace. Grandmother’s face multiplied in wrinkles as she raised her eyes from the yarn wrapped around her knarled fingers to the new entries.
“Ah, child. Has the sun gone to bed already?”
“Yes Grandmother,” Annika sat cross-legged, close enough to the fire for it to chase the evening chill out from her clothes, but not so much as to make her skin prickle with the warmth. “The men are bringing in the herds now.”
Grandmother nodded multiple times, head rocking back and forth as if it had its own separate rocker from the chair that her whole frame rested in. “Of course. What did you do today, child?”
Kono laid down behind her, his great back providing the perfect support to lean against, his soft fur oh so comfortable even after a long day of summer. “Just the usual, Grandmother. The herds are still remembering what it means to graze in the sun: they think that without their fences, they’re free to run as they please. I was running water and food all day as James and Andrew and the dogs rounded up wandering lambs.”
“Ah, the adventurous youth, those too young to have seen enough summers to know better.” Grandmother clicked her tongue knowingly. She too, had minded the house and the sheep in her day, just as each person in the family before her. “It is hard to believe that some of those spry runaways were drinking milk from our fingertips right here in this room just this winter, aye?”
“Aye,” Annika giggled, remembering that very well. Kono huffed, and she giggled again. “Kono remembers how he longed to herd them back out to the barn and padlock. He says that sheep don’t belong in the house!”
“Ah, so he says,” Grandmother nodded. Kono lifted his head at his name and then settled his chin back on his paws. Annika had no doubt he remembered, but those lambs were with the herd again, and he had spent a long day keeping them there. His rest was due to him.
“What are we working on tonight, Grandmother?” Annika eyed the yarn pooled in her elder’s lap, trying to see if it were any different than the normal tasks of carding and spinning to be learned today.
Grandmother, surprisingly, set a pin in her yarn and began to coil up the day’s work. “Summer has officially come again. It is time for us to practice another of our traditions. Fetch your brothers, child, and we will begin.”
Confused, Annika obediently rose and headed back to the door. Kono sighed and lumbered after his charge. When the sun was high, he’d follow the call to mind the sheep. But when night came, or when his person called, he was by Annika’s side like a briar caught in sheep’s wool.
She had to walk around to the barn to find James and Andrew, jostling each other’s shoulders as they walked up to the house. “Hey, half-pint!” The older called, breaking away from the tussle to give her a side hug. “What are you doing out in the dark? I had to beg Mother to let even Jamie stay out late when the herds had to be brought back in.”
“Grandmother wants us by her chair,” Annika expertly dodged a hand reaching to flick the end of her braid. “She said to practice a different tradition tonight?”
“Oh, yes!” James clapped his hands. “Storytelling!”
“Storytelling?” Annika hadn’t realized how far the prior summer felt now, let alone any that came before it. She vaguely remembered sitting around the rocking chair at night, and maybe stories were told. “About what?”
“Come on,” Andrew strode ahead, sweeping a hand around each of their shoulders to pull the youngers along. “If we hurry, maybe she can tell us two tonight.”
Annika stumbled along, feeling Kono’s nose bump the back of her legs as he made sure she didn’t fall, even as her mind whirled in trying to reclaim the shadows of memories between the flickers of the firelight that filled her mind.
Grandmother greeted each of the boys with the like that she had her granddaughter, and waited until each settled down in a ring before her; Annika again sitting against Kono, Andrew with his back to the fire, whittling knife and wood in hand, and James leaning back on his elbows.
“Children,” Grandmother spoke. It was soft, but Annika’s eyes immediately flew back to her face. “Tonight, I will tell you what has been told to me. Tomorrow, you will hold the story, and tell it to another. As my grandmother spoke to me, so I speak to you, so you will speak to your grandchildren. Will you hear me, and remember?”
“I will,” The boys chorused, and Annika found her own mouth had spoken the same words as well. Perhaps there was more that she remembered than she thought.
“Listen well then. Listen, and remember.”
Annika pressed into the warmth of her snoozing sheepdog and watched her grandmother weave a story aloud with wide eyes and wider ears.
Meet the Author, Elizabeth Baber
Elizabeth Baber is the latest addition to the DebraHillSings team, working as a Virtual Assistant for the wonderful woman herself. Elizabeth would identify as an author(ess), spreadsheet fanatic, and all-around geek. The majority of her time is spent serving Central Virginia’s low-vision patients as a technician with the MedRVA Foundation.
When not at work, she can be found cooking with her fiancé, coaching Teen Bible Quizzing, wrestling novel ideas, running an online Dungeons and Dragons server, or trying her hand at one of a hundred rotating crafting hobbies.
Some of her work can be found on her website: www.writingonwords.com and you can contact her at elizabeth@writingonwords.com.
Debra Hill
Debra Hill is an independent inspirational singer, author, songwriter, and writer. As a blind performer, she adds a personal story of God’s faithfulness. Her life exemplifies that Christ’s power will work to lift all regardless of circumstances.
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