Greatfather Langeven visited the estate of a wealthy family, for he did not ignore any child, no matter the family's status. But there was a carefully wrapped box on the table next to the child's bed, and a little note, written in the child's own hand, well, helped by a staff member. "I want no gifts, for I have plenty, but I thank you for your kindness. Please give my gifts to other children, and accept this gift from me to you." In the gift box for Greatfather Langeven was a pair of newly sewn winter mittens. Hand made. The young child had spent all the year learning to sew, just so be able to make this for him. -- Lessons
Greatfather Langeven is a childhood god. The little ones believe with faith and fervour that he visits all the good children and gifts them what they most desire. All in exchange for offerings of milk, sweet cakes, and maybe an apple or carrot for the unicorns that draw his sleigh. He only sees that which is good in the world, and so comes for the children who believe they have been good.
Which is terribly unfair to those who've been told they're wicked their entire, brief lives. But that's a different story for a different time.
Here is a mansion, made festive in the longest night of the year. Here is a child's bedroom with a tannenbaum, all over with baubles and bows. Here is a handcart, piled high with presents with lables and addresses. Here is a little table with the accustomed offerings, and its own little present with a letter. Here is a child, fast asleep in the assurance that her dreams of sugarplums will be coming true.
The letter was addressed to Greatfather Langeven. Curious, the spirit stopped to read.
He could be everywhere at the stroke of midnight, so it didn't matter that he stopped to read one letter. He was, after all, a god.
"Dear Greatfather Langeven," the letter read. "I have plenty in this season of snows, and need little. I have every assurance that what I desire will come from my parents and the rest of my family, gifted in kindness and love. Therefore I ask that you take these presents in the cart to the addresses listed, as I have noted that they are families in need. Please take also this gift on the little table for yourself, with my thanks." In much more ameteur writing underneath were the words, "Wythe hepl frum Nurf Anjies, adn sygned bye Arlyssa Moroflorit Daysie Harnovvr (DuchS)" The final period was a heart.
Inside the present was a pair of warm mittens. Of course they would fit. All things made for Greatfather Langeven fit. Even if he had to adjust himself to do so.
He wrote on the obverse side, with sparkling ink, "My greatest thanks to you, Duchess Alyssa," and of course a god knew how a child's name was properly spelled. "These gifts will be delivered as requested, and I will be sure to visit the impoverished as per your request. Everyone deserves a mid-winter feast on Midwinterfeast, of course. I gift to you what I would normally gift those awake in my hour of visitation, my Cup of Kindness, and I am sure you will share its elixir. Be sure to take at least a sip for yourself first, for that is the nature of sharing. And be sure to leave the cup on your mantle when it empties. You have shown a wisdom and generosity beyond your years, dear child. May it last for all of them." Signed, of course, Greatfather Langeven (Divinity).
When the Duchess Alyssa awoke, the cart and its presents were gone. The present unwrapped, and a polished horn with an inlaid mother-of-pearl snowflake upon it lay resting on the little table. Of course the horn had humorous animal feet holding it up. She had Nurse Angies read it for her, and dutifully took a sip before gifting one each to her nurse and each of her staff. Including her bodyguard.
There was a procession to her parents' suites, where her dour father took a sip and genuinely laughed for the first time in the entire year. And her mother had a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
And while it lasted, the Cup of Kindness was gifted a sip to the poor and miserable who came for the realm's largesse - firewood, bread, and a thick cloak - for all of the day.
They say that the realm knew much more kindness and joy, ever after. But that is the way such stories are wont to go. But in that very palace, for the rest of the winter, on the Duchess' mantle was a polished drinking horn bearing the symbol of Greatfather Langeven, resting on its own feet.
And when the Duchess grew to take the crown and the throne, it was a very merrier realm under her reign.
[Image from https://journals.openedition.org/medievalista/3902 and thank you kindly for allowing the download <3 ]
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