TxtATale #2

TxtATale: Once upon a time before the world had animals or people there were 3 essences. Theodore, a slow patient spirit in charge of though. Imogen, mischievous, playful, and alluring, in charge of imagination. And finally the mostly dignified yet strangely expressive Emma, in charge of emotions. Imogen could create millions of things in the time her beautifully long lashes would flutter when she was pretending to be coy, but it was Emma who gave her creations depth and sensation. Theodore was the practical one, solving disputes, giving the ladies work meaning and maintaining strength via reason. Theodore and Emma spent a great deal of time together. An ancient friendship fitting together like a leaf in the wind. They worked out the perfect balance to keep adrift their company in perfect flight and yet not send it blustering off in a frenzy. Emma would listen to Theodore talk endlessly about the world and all that it encompassed as she would express the feelings evoked by those thoughts Theodore would watch as if it were an unobtainable movie. Imogen would often get jealous of the balanced exchange those two shared and the deep rooted friendship it inspired. She didn’t feel half as flighty as they perceived her to be. She would create images or objects simply for the sake of destroying them again because she could.

After careful thought Imogen decided to create something so perfect and beautiful that Theodore and Emma would have to see the value in it. They would beg her to leave in the world for all time. Obviously it would take careful focus of her imagination to create something worthy of the world’s eternity. Emma and Theodore grew curious as Imogen had hardly any attention span and they couldn’t for a minute imagine what she would be working so hard on. When it was finished she called a meeting of the essences for all to judge. It was a beautiful scene that made Emma cry sadly and in turn Theodore displeased. There were tall pine trees dressed in a light powdery snow, a pond frozen over with an icy silver surface, and delicate snow flakes dancing and twirling in the wind as they fell. The sun was shining and Imogen called it winter. Emma thought it was cold and depressing. Nothing would grow or prosper here. Imogen sent them out to make improvements. She was not going to give up easily. She decorated every tree with tiny twinkling, lights, and red berries. A small village full of happy elves with small pointy ears was put in the centre. Wrapped packages were placed on every surface for colour, and sugar plum fairies danced to carols sung by the elves. Imogen lost her focus a bit because when she sat back to observe her work she noticed lights across every home and above the streets not to mention the flying reindeer. “It would be hard not to love this” she said and called the other two in.

Emma immediately took too the improvements, expressing an odd sort of joy filled with curiosity, and anticipation. She wanted to open every package in the entire place. Imogen hadn’t thought to actually fill the packages with things; however she was luckily very quick to imagine all sorts of goodies for Emma to enjoy. Theodore was a touch jealous, and criticised this place as having no meaning or purpose. Emma turned to him sitting in a pile of torn paper and boxes “Can we please give this place to the people?” “I don’t think this is a good idea, Emma” Theodore replied in his best voice of reason. “but think of all the smiling children in the world” Emma retorted. “your not thinking your feeling, if you were thinking you would be thinking about the orphans in the world with no parents or family, the poor homeless with no home or heating, if you were thinking you would see why this was a bad idea.” Imogene took this terribly and her lovely creation began to fade away. “Perhaps if we all worked together we could create something to give to the people that would help them create this themselves. Perhaps something with a bit of thought, love, happiness, and creativity.” Emma said to console her. “Can we call it a spirit like us?” Imogen asked “The Spirit of Christmas!” Thoedore said with a smile. Imogen could see an image years in the future of people ringing bells on every street corner to collect for the poor, she could hear the sound of thousands of children laughing, and squealing with joy as they tear open their packages, and she could smell the massive banquette being cooked for homeless shelters across the globe to feed the hungry. Thus the spirit of Christmas was born. Imogen waited patiently every year for the joy of Christmas to come around. Merry Christmas!