Sunday, January 17, 2016

BETHLEHEM STAR synopsis

LOGLINE
We all have a destiny . . . if we’re patient enough to wait until just the right time to shine. 

PITCH
A new little star is given a very important mission to lead Wise Men to the birth of a special Child but is told this will not happen for a long, long time. The independent and impatient young star must withstand personal doubt, the taunts of older stars, the long stretch of eons, and the silence of the Galaxy. When it had just about given up, the little starburst into its predicted brilliant glory and led the Wise Men and others to the miracle in Bethlehem. 

SYNOPSIS 
Once upon a time a Christmas Star was born into the Universe. The Galaxy said its name was the Star of Bethlehem and although the smallest star in the Universe, its purpose was to shine brighter than any star ever on the night a Savior is born. Three Wise Men would travel with gifts for the child in a time of great danger and will need to see its light to find him.

The Little Star didn’t think its purpose sounded important enough. In fact, it wanted a different job—any other job. It wanted to be part of Aquarius, Gemini, Leo, or Orion. However, the Galaxy disagreed and said that the Universe is depending on its cooperation. For two thousand years, it will shine at half its light. Then at the appointed time, it will shine brighter than everything in the night sky. The Bethlehem Star tried to wait patiently for Christmas Eve.

As two thousand years passed, he thought the Galaxy had forgotten him. Even when the Little Star inquired of the Galaxy, there was only deafening silence. The Bethlehem Star withstood other stars’ taunting about shining at half its light, doubting it would ever shine fully. Tears dropped from the Bethlehem Star all the way to earth, creating reservoirs of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Orion once tried to take his job, saying a comet, a planet, an angel, or even a shooting star should shine for Christmas Eve—much better choices than the dim Little Star.

More years passed. The Little Star tried to force itself to flicker just a little brighter, even if it hurt to do so, but all its efforts were for naught. Then just when the Bethlehem Star was sure it had lost its chance for a miracle, the Galaxy spoke louder than before. It said the Little Star, not Orion, would shine over the Bethlehem manger where the Child was resting. As midnight approached on the first Christmas Eve, the Bethlehem Star suddenly lit the night sky. It was so bright that nearly everyone in the world could see its glow, but especially the three Wise Men. All at once, a great company of the heavenly host appeared, singing in the sky with hallelujahs. The Bethlehem Star was so excited to finally be shining. Even the angels could see how the legendary star shined so bright on Christmas Eve that the rest of the stars were amazed beyond belief. For as long as time lasts, everyone in the Universe will have heard of the Bethlehem Star and its luminous beauty.

Copyright 2022 Jennifer Waters

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

The Man From the Synagogue: The Story of Coral Graf and a Lesson in Manna and Mitzvahs

“Dad, I’m going over to the Synagogue to talk to the Rabbi about the power of small miracles,” Coral said, while eating a bagel and lox for breakfast at her kitchen table. “I need to know that I’m doing the right thing with the coins from The Man Upstairs.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you,” Mr. Graf said, as he finished his Sunday morning coffee. “I sent him a box of bagels the other day.”

Coral felt a responsibility with each coin that she gave to someone. What if one person needed her coins more than another person? How would she know? She really wanted the Rabbi’s advice. Sometimes, her dad was too busy to answer all her questions. 

Her father grabbed his spring sweater as Coral gathered her tin can with overflowing coins from The Man Upstairs. She also put Puddles her porcelain pink piggy bank in her backpack. Last night, she filled him up with the latest coins dropped through the heating vent by The Man Upstairs. Pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half dollars, and dollar coins galore! 

“See you later tonight, Coral,” Mr. Graf said. He kissed Mrs. Graf on the cheek and headed out to his deli for the day. “Love you both to the moon and back!”

Before Coral put the tin can in her backpack, The Man Upstairs dropped another handful of coins through the heating vent. Coral thought he must have known she was ready to go out for the day, and she might meet some people in need. Other people’s needs were so great that sometimes it overwhelmed Coral, but she was determined to make as much of a positive difference in the world as she could. 

“Don’t forget these coins!” Mrs. Graf said to Coral. She scooped up some rolling coins from the floor and handed them to her daughter. “Also, if the Rabbi asks you to meet The Man Upstairs, it might be better that he says a prayer for him. The Man Upstairs is a private person.”

“Since he’s the Rabbi, I thought I’d tell him about the miracles that have been happening with the coins,” the ten-year-old girl said. “Groceries are being bought. Rent is getting paid. Homeless people found homes and jobs. People are even getting better from cancer.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a nice talk, but don’t be disappointed if he doesn’t understand,” Mrs. Graf said. “Not everyone understands that coins fall from The Man Upstairs through the heating vent in our apartment building for you to use to do good in the world.”

“I’ve never kept one single penny for myself, Mom,” Coral said. “I’ve been giving everything away. It’s the only way to help people!”

“Not everyone has enough faith for miracles to happen,” Mrs. Graf said. “I personally think you are a miracle, Coral!”

“Thanks! I love you, Mom,” Coral said. Then, she grabbed her jacket and marched down the stairs to the New York City street with her mother behind her.

“You should stop by and say hello to me at the Empire State Building during lunch,” Mrs. Graf said. “I have to go to work now, but I’d love to hear all about your talk with the Rabbi later today.”

“I’ll stop by after talking to the Rabbi,” Coral said. “I could ride the elevators up and down the Empire State Building for hours, just for fun, like an amusement park ride.” 

When Coral arrived at the Fifth Avenue Synagogue, she swung open the doors and stood in awe of the gorgeous sanctuary. It seemed like such an important place to Coral. She tiptoed into the Rabbi’s office and hoped not to disturb anyone. 

“My name is Coral Graf. I’m here to see the Rabbi,” Coral said to his assistant. She placed her piggy bank on her oak desk. As she looked around the office, she noticed that the Rabbi had many books. She thought he must have been very intelligent and spent a lot of time reading. She had never seen anyone with so many books. 

“Do you have an appointment, honey?” the secretary asked. She pushed her glasses back on her wrinkled face. Coral thought the lady seemed busy. 

“Why do I need an appointment?” Coral said. “The Rabbi talks to God, and I want to talk to the man who talks to God.”

“Well, you’re feisty, aren’t you, young lady? Usually, you have to get on the calendar, but I’ll see what I can do to make an exception,” the secretary said. She walked into the Rabbi’s private office with a yellow pad of paper and returned minutes later with a tired smile. 

“The Rabbi has five minutes to see you,” the secretary said. She sat down at her squeaky, rolling chair. Coral wondered how she would ever explain herself in only five minutes.

“God must have a lot to say to the Rabbi if he only has five minutes to talk to me,” Coral said. “I’ll try to keep in short.”

As Coral walked into the Rabbi’s private office, he breathed deep and exhaled long and hard, as though he needed a nap. 

“Your father sends such nice bagels and desserts from his deli. Now what can I do for you, Coral?” the Rabbi said. “You are such a fine young girl.”

“I wanted to tell you about the coins that I’ve been receiving from The Man Upstairs,” Coral said. She plopped herself on the chair in front of his desk. 

“Oh, well, what is it that you wanted to tell me about them?” the Rabbi said. He shuffled a stack of paper on his desk. Coral wondered how he could find anything in the big pile.  

“Well, the coins come through the heating vent, clickety clank, and drop into my tin can, and they keep coming as long as I give them away to do good in the world,” Coral said. 

She poured her tin can of pennies on the Rabbi’s desk. Then, she opened Puddles, her piggy bank, and dumped the coins from her pink porcelain pig.

“These coins are for you and the Synagogue,” she said. “It’s just enough to start a chain reaction of small miracles that create bigger miracles!” 

“Why, thank you!” the Rabbi said. “Please tell The Man Upstairs thank you as well. What is his name?”

“The Man Upstairs! His name is The Man Upstairs,” Coral said. She stacked the pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, and dollars coins into separate piles for the Rabbi. She thought he might need her help to be more organized. 

“I’m sure we can put your coins to good use around here,” the Rabbi said. “It’s almost like when the Israelites received manna from God in the desert. They only ate the manna that they gathered that day. If they kept it for more than a day, worms crawled all over it, except on the Sabbath. Then it lasted two days.”

“I love that story!” Coral said. “I wonder what manna tasted like. The food at my dad’s deli is probably better.”

“Yes, that’s true. Rabbinical scholars think it tasted like wafers with honey,” the Rabbi said. “So, you’re giving your coins away to do mitzvahs?”

“Good deeds!” Coral said. She eyed the open scriptures that sat on the Rabbi’s desk. 

“Yes, good deeds, like feeding the poor, acting kindly to a stranger,” the Rabbi said. “Some people just throw coins into fountains for good luck, but you’ve done much more than that. Your actions show what you believe.”

“Maybe you could talk to God about this for me?” Coral said. “I’ve been trying to give my coins to the right people. The Man Downstairs needed the coins, and I didn’t know it at first. I was worried that the Man from Central Park was not a good person to help. He seemed to drink too much alcohol, but my father and I took him to the hospital anyhow, and I gave my coins to his medical bills. How do you think I should pick the people that I help?”

“I’m sure you’re doing a good job,” the Rabbi said. He looked at his watch, and then he glanced at the scriptures on his desk. “Follow your feelings and listen to the voice inside of you.”

“I’ll listen extra hard to the voice inside of me,” Coral said. Then, she pulled her ears. 

“My feeling is that giving away your coin collection is just the beginning for you!” the Rabbi said to Coral. “Your generosity is going to lead to great things in life!”

“The Man Upstairs gave me enough coins to make small changes in the world, even if no one notices them at first,” Coral said. “You have to start somewhere!”

She felt confident that she was doing the right things with her coins. The Rabbi had helped her have more faith in herself and her ability to make good decisions.

“Now remember to keep the Sabbath,” the Rabbi said. “I really have a lot of work to do today. I’m working on a sermon for the week. Zechariah 4:10 says, ‘Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin.’”

“Thank you! I understand,” Coral said. “Let me know what you do with the coins . . . it’s just like they came from heaven.”

 

Copyright 2016 Jennifer Waters


Sequel to "The Man Upstairs: The Story of Coral Graf and Coins from a Tin Can" (1/3/15), "The Man Downstairs: The Story of Coral Graf and Her Missing Coins" (7/13/15), "The Man Next Door: The Story of Coral Graf and the Neighborhood Coins" (8/5/15), "The Man Across the Street: The Story of Coral Graf, a Hanukkah Miracle, and the Landlord with a Cigar" (9/10/15), "The Man Around the Corner: The Story of Coral Graf and a Homeless Cardboard Box" (9/10/15), and "The Man from Central Park: The Story of Coral Graf and a Bike Ride on a Spring Day" (10/4/15).


Dedicated to my grandmother, Augusta Renner Graf Waters. 

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Musical Time: The Story of a Metronome Who Wants to Make Music

“I want to do more than click and tick all day! Music! I must make music,” Galileo the Metronome said. 

For hours on end, Galileo sat on Cadence the Composer’s piano, keeping time with his pendulum-swinging arm. Cadence turned him on and off, adjusting Galileo’s beats per minute, depending on the piece he was writing.

“I can’t take this anymore! You are only using me for my fixed rhythm,” he said to the Composer.

“You are such a necessity! You have no idea how lost I would be with your steady tempo,” the Composer said.

“No one plays music at an exact tempo. I can’t even align myself with your expressive pieces,” Galileo said. “Strings! I want the strings of a violin on my neck! So, someone can play melodies through me . . .”

All at once, Galileo threw himself off the side of the piano onto the floor of the Composer’s home. 

“Oh no! My lovely Galileo!” Cadence said, gathering the scattered pieces. “What will I do with you now?” 

Cadence gathered the shattered and broken metronome and placed his pieces in the trashcan beside the piano.

“I’ll have to stop by The Music Store for a new metronome tomorrow, maybe one with blinking lights,” he said.

Meanwhile, Galileo’s parts were tossed throughout the wastepaper basket. “Oh, I ache worse than ever . . .”

In the morning, when the composer’s son, Winkel, found the Metronome’s pieces, he glued them back together.

“Well, you’ll never click like a metronome again, but maybe I could make you into an instrument,” Winkel said. 

Winkel pulled and plucked four strings across Galileo’s neck. Then he tightened them to exact pitches—E, A, D, G. 

“I’ll finally be able to make music!” Galileo said. “It was rash but jumping off the piano was for the best.”

By the time Winkel had reconstructed Galileo into a tiny violin, Cadence replaced Galileo with a new metronome.

“One day you’ll be known as rare as a Stradivari violin,” Winkel said, constructing a separate bow for Galileo.

“Please, play me!” Galileo said. “Don’t wait! Sounds waves will start from the friction of the bow on the strings and carry to the bridge. The bridge will send the vibrations through the instrument, and then we have music!”

As Winkel placed his bow to Galileo’s strings, the former metronome made music and has never stopped since.

 

Copyright 2016 Jennifer Waters