The Ugliest Christmas Sweater in the World: The Story of Fashion Gone Bad at the Holidays

If you’ve ever had an ugly Christmas sweater, 

Then, you know you only need one for the better. 

It might have jingles on it with all the bells and whistles,

Or it might be as touchy as prickly holly thistles. 

You usually have socks that match it to a T,

But of course, don’t let anyone fashion-fancy see.

Then, you have gloves that also blend its frosty hues

And a hat that coordinates with snowy freezing dews. 

A reindeer or a Santa or a wreath of red and green

Is on your stomach and always right across your spleen.

Mine is the ugliest Christmas sweater in the world.

I know because I knit it, and I became unfurled, 

But I love it because it keeps me warm at night, 

It makes me think of Christmas when all the world is right. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

The Most Silent Night: A Christmas Folktale from Austria

Father Joseph Mohr sat alone in a pew. The quiet of Christmas Eve morning surrounded him at the St. Nicholas Church, the parish church of Oberndorf, Austria. Since the church had been dedicated to the saint, the Catholic priest had always thought his church was special, but this Christmas Eve seemed rather disappointing. As the priest prepared for the upcoming Midnight Mass, he quietly prayed for heavenly peace. He had already finished his homily.

The day before, he had visited a sick child in the countryside. Though an ordinary baby, he reminded Father Joseph of the Christ child. He especially liked the scripture that taught people that whatever you did for one of the least of these then you did for Christ, especially caring for the sick. The innocence of the sick baby’s eyes made him see Jesus on the cold, wintry day. He prayed for healing and asked God to bless the family amid the snowy hillside. 

Now, a day later, when he tried to play his church organ, he discovered a distorted sound came from the instrument. With a closer look behind the organ, it seemed like mice had chewed through the bellows that were used to supply the instrument with wind. 

Although he tried to fix the bellows, the music was stilled. Water from the nearby Salzach River had flooded the church behind the organ and left its parts damaged and coated with ice. The organ was beyond immediate repair.

“How shall we manage now?” Father Joseph said. Memories of past beautiful Christmas services filled his head. If Midnight Mass was without music, he imagined the parishioners’ complaints. “It’s only hours until Christmas Eve service. How will we celebrate Christmas?” 

He returned to his office and looked for rags to clean up the flood water and mice droppings in the sanctuary. Instead, he wished he was playing glorious carols on the organ in honor of the Savior’s birth. He had established a yearly tradition of sharing a new carol. His congregation would be downcast, especially the Strasser family, who were known for singing beautiful harmonies in the community. 

“Maybe if I write a new song, Franz could play the guitar instead of the organ for the Christmas Eve Mass,” he wondered aloud. “Then, I could raise money with the Christmas Eve offering to buy a new organ for the church.”

As he made his way back into his office, he considered the sickly baby he had met just yesterday. He dipped his pen in ink and scribbled lyrics onto a crumpled piece of paper. His hands trembled as he wrote out the words. Excitement stirred inside him.

The words rang true in his heart, even if he feared they might seem too simple to others. He recounted the Christmas story from the Bible with rhyme, and he thought the words would sing well. Inspired by the sick baby, and the loss of the church organ, his lyrics read: 

 

Silent Night

Silent night, holy night, 
All is calm, all is bright. 
Round yon virgin, 

Mother and child. 
Holy infant, so tender and mild.
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace. 

Silent night, holy night, 
Shepherds quake at the sight; 
Glories stream from heaven afar, 
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia! 
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born! 

Silent night, holy night, 
Son of God, love's pure light; 
Radiant beams from thy holy face, 
With the dawn of redeeming grace, 
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth, 
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth. 

 

After he finished the lyric, Father Joseph knew that the new song needed music but didn’t think he could finish it in time for midnight service. 

So, Father Joseph hurried to his friend, schoolteacher, organist, and choirmaster, Franz Gruber. Although Franz played the organ for the church, he also played the guitar. Since the organ was broken, he would have to shine on the stringed instrument. 

When Father Joseph arrived at Franz’s home, he brushed the falling snow from his shoulders. He knocked on the door and called “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas to you, my dear friend!” said Franz, as he opened the door. He took Joseph’s coat, hat, and scarf from him and hung them on a hook.

“Can you finish my song before service tonight?” Father Joseph said. “It would be such a Christmas gift! Our organ broke, and I thought you could finish my lyric with something special on the guitar. I can’t do it myself.”

“Right now?” Franz said. “We were about to eat our Christmas Eve dinner!” 

“Pardon me, but . . .” Father Joseph pleaded. “I really need your help.”

“I understand,” Franz said. “All the songs I planned to play on the organ this year will have to be saved for next year.”

Sitting by the fireplace, Franz took the crumpled piece of paper with the scribbled lyric from Joseph. Franz paused, and then, hummed a melody while strumming the guitar. 

Father Joseph thought it sounded like the most peaceful melody that he had ever heard. 

As Father Joseph paced back and forth in Franz’s home, Franz finally finished the music to the lyric. Joseph thought the song was such an answered prayer.

“Do you think it’s too simple?” Franz asked Father Joseph in a moment of doubt. 

“Oh, it’s gorgeous, Franz,” Father Joseph said with a tear in his eye. “The congregation will love it.”

With relief, Father Joseph warmed his hands at the fireplace, put his coat and hat back on, and hurried to the door. He wrapped his scarf around his neck. 

“See you later tonight,” Franz said to him. “We’ll make everything work out somehow.”

Father Joseph walked back to his church singing, “Silent night, holy night . . .” It did seem like a holy night to him despite all the turmoil. 

At the beginning of the Midnight Mass, Father Joseph prayed silently to God, worried that the congregation would reject the new hymn on the guitar. After all, they were expecting to hear the organ at its best. 

At least the church looked gorgeous, decorated in garland and holly wreaths. Candles were stuck in each of the pews for the congregants to light as they worshipped.

As the church members bustled to their seats, they did seem to have a bit of excitement and anticipation of what surprises Christmas might bring them. 

Then, Franz burst in the side door of the church with his guitar and family, ready to play the new hymn. Joseph decided to present the song first, and then give his homily. 

“Merry Christmas! I would like to now play a new Christmas hymn written by myself and Franz,” Father Joseph announced. “Since our organ is broken, Franz will play the guitar. Sometimes, new songs come from the most unlikely places at the right time when we need them the most.”

Father Joseph watched the congregation shift in their seats and whisper among themselves. He was worried at what their response might be, but he hoped for the best.

“What happened to the organ?” one man in a black suit snapped. 

“Shh,” another lady in a red and gold Christmas gown whispered. “He’s about to play his new hymn.”

The entire congregation grew completely quiet. Then, as if angels had descended from heaven to sing with them, Father Joseph and Franz debuted “Silent Night” for the first time. Joseph felt nervous down to his toes.

“Silent night, holy night,” Father Joseph sang as Franz strummed the guitar. Franz sang some spontaneous harmonies that the priest loved. 

Father Joseph blinked back tears. It sounded so angelic. He thought the song felt simple, but timeless. He sensed a special presence of peace in the sanctuary. 

One at a time, while the priest and choirmaster sang, the congregation lit candles that were stuffed in the pews. Small children stood in awe as their parents struck matches for flames. The church had never been so beautiful and serene. The pews glowed with golden light. 

The Strassers, a family of travelling glovemakers, sat in the front pews, filled with tears. Father Joseph knew the family was known for their singing and glad they were in attendance for the first performance of his hymn.

“The song makes me think of our children when they were younger,” Mr. Strasser said to his wife. “How thoughtful of Father Joseph and Franz to write such a lovely new carol for Christmas.”

As Father Joseph and Franz finished the carol, Joseph cleared his throat. He was nervous to ask for more money than the congregation might have during the holidays to buy a new organ.

“Now that we have heard the beautiful new hymn on guitar, please give generously for us to be able to buy a new organ,” Father Joseph pleaded. “God loves a cheerful giver!”

As the offering plate made its way throughout the congregation, the Strasser family dug into their pockets, and each gave an offering, even the children. The rest of the congregation dropped dollars and coins onto the plate as well. 

As Father Joseph looked at the offering plate when it returned to him, he noticed a major donation or two. Mr. Strasser smiled with joy at Father Joseph, who was so surprised at the large amount of money in the offering. After he gave the benediction for the service, Father Joseph watched as his congregants went home, singing the new hymn to themselves. He hoped they remembered every word in their hearts.

“Could we please have a copy of the new hymn, Father Joseph?” Mr. Strasser said to the priest after the service. “My family and I sing folk songs, and I would love to champion ‘Silent Night.’”

After that night, the hymn was so well-loved that it spread to neighboring villages across Austria and eventually Europe, much to the credit of the Strasser family, who often sang the song with harmonies as their father sold gloves. The family even performed it for King Frederick William IV of Prussia. 

As time passed, the Rainers, another family of singers, performed the song often as well, eventually at Trinity Church in New York City. Father Joseph had never anticipated “Silent Night” would receive so much recognition. He was grateful every time he received word that someone else had performed his hymn. His church became known as the Silent Night Chapel.

As tradition has it, the song is now sung on Christmas Eve all over the world at the stroke of midnight by candlelight. It offers a peaceful blessing in tumultuous times. Everyone needs a silent night, but most of all at Christmas. 

 

Editor’s note: “The Most Silent Night” is a fictionalized retelling of the first performance of “Silent Night” (“Stille Nacht”), written in 1818 by Father Joseph Mohr, a young priest at St. Nicholas Church in Oberndorf, Austria, and composed by Franz Xaver Gruber, the church organist. “Silent Night” was performed for the first time on Christmas Eve during Midnight Mass by candlelight. Today, it is sung all around the world as a symbol of peace. 

 

Copyright 2019, 2025 Jennifer Waters

The Christmas Accordion: The Story of a Holiday Melodeon

The Christmas Accordion has magic in its notes.

It makes you think of merriment and happiness floats.

The melodeon is a squeezebox with a secret inside. 

It holds music and melodies and brings the Yuletide. 

The concertina is a symphony you hold upon your lap

When you’ve just settled down for a short winter’s nap. 

It only plays Christmas songs, not a note of May or June. 

The stomach Steinway has a song vault that’s always in tune.

So wind up the box, and see what it plays for you. 

It will pick your holiday song, a song that’s bright and true. 

It’s almost as a fortune of old mysteries from the deep. 

The songs are something that the Accordion couldn’t keep. 

Now sit by the fireside and instead of a Christmas chat,

Expect a song from heaven with musicality that’s pat. 

You might even see the notes linger from the box. 

Catch them if you can, like a little sly silver fox. 

The songs will make you sing ‘till you can sing no more,

Make you dance ‘till you scratch your shiny kitchen floor. 

It always plays the song that you need at the time,

Giving you Christmas gifts that are like a brilliant chime. 

Then your heart becomes an accordion just like the instrument

And your life becomes the world’s most precious ornament. 

All because you squeezed room for Christmas chorus reeds

With lots of love and light and a season of very good deeds.  

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

Little Christmas: The Story of an Irish Mouse with a Big Heart

If you need a little Christmas inside your dreary house, 

Then you might need nothing more than a cheery mouse.  

Little Christmas is a Godsend on a stormy winter’s day. 

He has a big heart and always has something good to say. 

With an Irish accent, he carries luck inside his vest.

A three-leaf clover behind his ear brings some extra zest. 

He can sneak inside your stocking above your fireplace

And sprinkle cinnamon in your cider with a lot of grace.

He can snuggle on your shoulder, then slip into your shirt,

And sing carols right on key as he cooks a sweet dessert. 

Almost like a Wise Man with epiphany in his soul, 

He comes bearing gifts instead of ugly bags of coal.

So before you turn away a new friend with a tail, 

Welcome him in your home, and merry will prevail. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

The Hallowed Scarecrow: The Story of a Straw Man in a Pumpkin Patch

If you see a scarecrow on the corner of your fence, 

Stop and say hello and try not to have pretense.

The Hallowed Scarecrow could be a person, 

And if you ignore him it will surely worsen

His straw body and his fragile feeble frame.

Much better if you would give him his own name.

He isn’t just a decoy or a plastic mannequin.

Not ever saying hello will leave him panicking.

He needs some new clothes and a house over his head.

He needs his own pillow and his own special bed.

Birds already hate him when they could have been friends. 

He was told to scare strangers, and it left him at wit’s ends. 

The pumpkins and the horses in the fields are irate, 

But they can’t do a thing to stop the human hate. 

Be the first one to think a thought that’s clever.  

You are the one who can change his life forever. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

The Imaginary Spice Cupboard: The Story of Happy Recipes that Make Your Heart Full

My mother had a cupboard full of jars with spices. 

If you didn’t use them properly, the flavors caused vices. 

If you used too much allspice, the neighbors did strange things. 

They would run in crazy circles and start to wear nose rings.

The bay leaf and the basil mixed in bad proportion

Would cause chaos and confusion and even extortion. 

Chili pepper burned your tiny tongue to little pieces, 

And dill was so boring that it gave you sleep increases. 

Fennel and ginger made you giggle ‘till you cried. 

Horseradish and lavender made you talk until you lied. 

Nutmeg and oregano always made you snort and sneeze. 

Paprika and parsley made drop right to your knees. 

Rosemary blessed you if you used the right amount, 

But in double doses, it would raise your blood count. 

Saffron and savory would go right to your head. 

Tarragon and thyme would turn you cherry red. 

Vanilla made you dizzy and sent you to outer space. 

White mustard made you cough and turn green in the face. 

So I used the spices sparingly and never took them for granted. 

All the seeds my mother sowed were for spices she had planted.

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

THE MAN UPSTAIRS synopsis

LOGLINE

Give away your pennies, and you get more coins that can start small miracles, which lead to bigger ones.

PITCH

Almost like manna from heaven, magic coins come to nine-year-old Coral Graf from The Man Upstairs through her heating vent. She lives on the Upper East Side of New York City and always wants to cause good in the world. She gives the pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half dollars, and dollar coins away in her neighborhood and hopes to create miracles. Whenever she shares her coins with others, she gets more coins from The Man Upstairs. The stream of coins never stops and neither does the goodness with them. 

SYNOPSIS

Nine-year-old Coral Graf lives on the Upper East Side of New York City with her father and mother in a red brick high-rise apartment with many neighbors. Her father owns a local deli with Jewish delicacies that all the neighbors love. At least three days a week, her mother works as a telephone switchboard operator at the Empire State Building. 

 

Ever since Coral was a baby, The Man Upstairs dropped pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, half dollars, and dollar coins through the heating vent. At first, her father yells at The Man Upstairs because he doesn’t want the coins. When The Man Upstairs continues to drop the coins, Mrs. Graf sets out a tin can in order to collect them. The Man Upstairs calls to Coral through the heating vent and tells her that he needs her to help the people in the neighborhood with his money. He also asks her not to keep the coins only for herself. Coral agrees and wonders how he got so much spare change. After the Grafs grow tired of giving the coins away and want to keep the money for themselves, The Man Upstairs stops dropping the coins. Believing in the power of small miracles to create bigger ones, Coral insists that she must give the coins away. Later, when Coral places the tin can under the apartment vent, more coins come out, faster than ever before. 

 

The Man Upstairs only drops coins when someone from the Graf family gives the coins away. From that day on, Coral is in charge of the coins that fall into the tin can from The Man Upstairs. Visiting the Man Downstairs, The Man Next Door, The Man Across the Street, The Man Around the Corner, The Man from Central Park, and The Man from the Synagogue, she promises never to hoard the coins, but to do good with each penny, nickel, dime, quarter, half dollar, and dollar coin. The more coins The Man Upstairs gives her, the more she gives away. She might even be a millionaire; all because The Man Upstairs knows that she will keep her promise to him.

Copyright 2022 Jennifer Waters

The Cookie Bandit: The Story of Chocolate Chip Banana Oatmeal Ginger Almond Macadamia Nut Sugar Cookies

Once there was a Cookie Bandit,

That had a scheme, and he planned it.

His hand was in the cookie jar.

Cookie crumbs were never far. 

He couldn’t eat a normal cookie.

At baking, he was not a rookie. 

He mixed his favorite recipes, 

To leave lasting legacies.

Instead of a cookie that was simple,

He created a sweet with a dimple:

Chocolate chip, banana, and oatmeal

Combined with zest and much appeal. 

Then ginger, almond, and macadamia 

Can be eaten from here to Mesopotamia. 

So, if you need a special dessert, 

Dress in your cookie-eating shirt, 

And have a Cookie Bandit biscuit. 

It’s almost like your mother fixed it. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

Donkey Riddles: The Story of Puzzles and Problems

If you meet a donkey on the side of the road, 

Make sure to ask him to speak to you in code. 

Yes, donkeys talk a lot in languages galore. 

There are many topics that you can explore. 

Ask the donkey to tell you a simple riddle. 

If you feel inclined, you can play him like a fiddle. 

Then you will know the riddle, and you can share

With neighbors and friends, when they’re acting square. 

Riddles are tricky, and you have to think twice. 

Sometimes it’s like lying and that’s not very nice,

But riddles make you think far beyond yourself,

Or the books that are sitting on your lofty shelf.

So, stop and tell a donkey “hello” from time to time. 

Donkeys have a lot to say and even speak in rhyme.

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

Fishtail: The Story of a Girl with a Summertime Braid

Each summer when you sit by the swimming pool, 

And you try to find a bit of shade to keep cool, 

Listen to the tales of fish in the open sea.

They might involve you, and they might involve me.

I like to braid my hair and tell stories aloud. 

I’m so good at spinning tales that my family is proud. 

The normal-type braid, I don’t ever do.

Fishtails are my favorite, let me braid one for you.

The fairytale will have a knight or a valiant king, 

And a princess that has a song to sing. 

An evil rotten witch is always a must,

But her plan in the end will need to go bust. 

The king saves the princess in the castle on a hill,

And love will win out, even if hope seems nil. 

Why don’t you braid a fishtail with your own hair?

I’ll listen to your story; it only seems fair. 

But a warning to tell you, fishtails have the charm. 

Other types of braids might bring you alarm. 

They have no story-magic or fancy at best.

Use your heart to practice fishtails; you will be blessed.

Divide the long hair in two larger sections, 

From which you take the outermost selections. 

Criss-cross the hair until you reach the end. 

By the end of the story, make a brand-new friend. 

You could braid three-strand or French braids all day, 

But none will bring you characters in a play. 

Three-strand braids use three sections to make one, 

And it stays together until you make it come undone. 

A French braid is classy but requires an accent,

So do Dutch braids which are having advent. 

Waterfall braids look good in long hair. 

Four-strand braids have a certain flair. 

The simple solution seems to be rope braids, 

Where two strands are twisted in double shades, 

But once again, none of these braids have tales. 

Only fishtails have stories that involve whales!

I’m listening to your fable as you make a braid,

Like fins in the sea, fishtails are handmade!

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

OAK APPLE DAY synopsis

LOGLINE

A little girl longs for romantic love but goes after it in quite the wrong way. 

PITCH

Ten-year-old Poppy Marigold, inspired by the kiss in Sleeping Beauty, imagines being kissed by her own prince and thinks each of her three favorite boy classmates should by now have kissed her more than once. But they ignore her. Using the annual Oak Apple Day parade as cover, Poppy climbs a tree and pelts the boys with apples, planning to kiss them when they’re down. If one of them wakes when she’s kissing him, it will be true love, and everyone will know it. The first apple only hits Alastair in the shoulder. The second hits Duncan in the head but doesn’t knock him down. The third toss smacks Fergus to the ground. Poppy jumps out of the tree and kisses Fergus. He tries to run, so she takes chase and pelts him with apples. Finally, Fergus gives up and makes Oak Apple Day history by kissing Poppy. 

                                   

SYNOPSIS 

The British celebrate Royal Oak Day on May 29 in honor of King Charles II’s birthday. Ten-year-old Poppy Marigold wears an oak apple round her neck because if a student doesn’t wear a costume they are to be pinched—in the bum. Poppy sits at lunch with Alastair Glover, Duncan MacGregor, and Fergus Laird. None of the boys say anything to her. She wants to pinch them in the bum for their bad attitudes. Inspired by the kiss in Sleeping Beauty, she imagines being kissed by her own prince. For weeks, Poppy was sure she was in love with each of the three adorable boys, and now was the time to finally be kissed. She decides that the large Oak Tree outside the School is about to help her get that first kiss.

As Poppy pinches the boys’ bums, their teacher announces that the Heart of Oak Friendly Society Parade starts at three o’clock. This year Poppy plans to sneak up the Oak Tree and drop apples on Alastair, Duncan, and Fergus. More determined than ever, she remembers how wonderful love is supposed to be, according to Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince. So, when no one is looking, she stuffs her dress pockets and backpack with apples. Poppy thinks if she hits the boys in the head, they’ll pass out, and she can kiss them before they wake up. If one of them wakes when she’s kissing him, it will be true love, and everyone will know it. When Poppy finishes her Maypole, she slips out to the Oak Tree and positions herself on a sturdy tree branch where she has good aim at any of the boys. 

Her classmates walk out with their Maypoles, oak boughs, and flowers. They look so festive Poppy almost forgets her plan to drop the apples, but when she sees Alastair, she drops the first apple and hits his shoulder. She drops the second apple on Duncan. It hits him in the head, but it isn’t strong enough to knock him out. When she sees Fergus, she throws the apple so hard that it smacks him to the ground. She declares it’s true love. Poppy climbs down and the rest of the apples fall on everyone. As her teacher scolds her, she runs to Fergus, grabs him, and kisses him. A few moments later, Fergus opens his eyes, looking so shocked and confused that he can hardly breathe. Yelling, Fergus gets up off the sidewalk and runs down the parade route as fast as he can. Poppy calls after him and runs to try to catch him, throwing apples from the sidewalk at his head, with good aim. After a few minutes, Fergus gives up, and makes Oak Apple Day history when he kisses Poppy. 

Copyright 2022 Jennifer Waters

Christmas Pudding: The Story of the Holiday Silver Coin

Christmas pudding isn’t just a dessert,

That you try to keep from spilling on your shirt. 

It’s filled with fruit and a silver coin, 

That you search for after eating tenderloin. 

Made weeks or even months in advance,

With thirteen ingredients not by chance. 

The British pudding is steamed and lit,

And doused with custard when it cools a bit. 

If you find the silver coin inside your cake, 

Luck has found you through a pudding bake. 

Happy December becomes happy all year,

Sweet blessings filled with love and good cheer.

Top it with holly and red berries for show.

Plum pudding tastes better than holiday snow. 

Stir up the wishes with a round of applause,

And be sure to save a piece for Santa Claus. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

BARNYARD ANIMALS AND THE BIG CITY synopsis

LOGLINE

One brave and visionary individual can inspire and improve the lives of many others . . . even if they’re a chicken.

PITCH

Roberta the Chicken has had enough of mean old Farmer Bosworth and has decided to fly the coop and head to the Big City to make a new life for herself. She invites the rest of the Barnyard Animals to join her. Each one has a personal reason why they don’t think they can leave, but Roberta’s logic and enthusiasm sway them to the idea of a great escape. Piled into Sam the Taxi Driver’s cab they head out, pursued by Farmer Bosworth with his shotgun. Thus begin the adventures of the Barnyard Animals & The Big City.  

SYNOPSIS 

Roberta the Chicken is flying the coop, going to the Big City, and leaving the Barnyard behind. Anyone brave enough to come with her is welcome. Farmer Bosworth paces through the Barnyard with his shotgun and cup of hot coffee with whisky. Olga the Pig wonders why Roberta would do such a thing—like leave them. Of course, Farmer Bosworth is crazy mean, but the Big City might not be much better. Gobbler the Turkey doesn’t understand how Roberta would ever stay there. Possibly visiting would be tolerable but living there is another circumstance altogether. 

If Ezequiel the Sheep goes to the Big City, he is sure that everyone will try to make him into a wool sweater. Olga the Pig thinks she might even become bacon, and Apple Dumplings the Cow is hesitant because the whole neighborhood will want milk from her all day long. If the Barnyard Animals moved to the Big City, Gobbler the Turkey fears every Thanksgiving the Pilgrims would try to make him into flaming turkey wings, or Nanny the Goat would be used for goat cheese. It just seems altogether too dangerous. Stallion the Horse and Jack the Donkey think they might have to go with the Chicken anyhow. When Sam the Taxi Driver arrives at the farm, Roberta suggests that everyone pile in the car, and even ride in the trunk. Jack the Donkey insists that he cannot let Roberta go-it-alone and asks everyone to accompany them. Taking last gulps of water and food from their troughs, the Barnyard Animals ready themselves for their trip. 

They all pile in and Stallion the Horse runs beside the Taxi. Sam triples the fare since the entire Barnyard comes with Roberta, who says not to worry because she swiped money from Farmer Bosworth. When the Farmer sees the animals fleeing, he comes after them with his shotgun and shoots out the right back tire. Threatening to track them down in the Big City, the Farmer keeps shooting at the car. Sam promises that he has friends who can help them out in their new life. He worriedly says he will have to teach them everything he knows, but at least he will get them away from crazy Farmer Bosworth. Of course, Farmer Bosworth follows them all over the City with his shotgun, but he is never able to catch them. Sam the Taxi Driver has too many friends in low and high places in the Big City—and soon so does Roberta the Chicken and her friends. 

Copyright 2022 Jennifer Waters

Cockatoo: The Story of a Parrot Who Lost His Voice

Cockatoo, Cockatoo, I can’t hear you!

Wherever did your voice go? 

Is it traveling to-and-fro?

Cockatoo, Cockatoo, can you hear me?

I’m talking rather loudly. 

I’m feeling rather proudly. 

Cockatoo, Cockatoo, I think I caught a glimpse!

Your voice is in your throat, 

But you swallowed it like a goat. 

Cockatoo, Cockatoo, can you burp it up?

Find your voice again. 

So, you can speak to men. 

Cockatoo, Cockatoo, it might be coming back. 

I hear it growing stronger. 

Speak out a little longer!
Cockatoo, Cockatoo, your voice is loud and clear.
I'm glad I made you find it. 
Now you'll have to get behind it.

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

BUBBLEGUM TAFFY HOT PINK HIGH HEELS synopsis

LOGLINE

Time-traveling shoes offer a twelve-year-old girl a world of adventures, but her first mishap-ridden journey warns her to seek some experienced advice before her next trip. 

PITCH

Twelve-year-old Aiyana Mitchell sits on the back porch of her home in Philadelphia wearing her Bubblegum Taffy Hot Pink High Heels. With these time-traveling shoes, a secret gift from her adventurous Aunt Olivia, she can travel to the future and the past. Despite her mother’s warning to stay in the present, Aiyana decides to travel to the early 1900’s and finds herself in a boat on a lake with swans, wearing a lace dress with a fancy parasol. Surprised to be there, she lets the parasol slips from her hand, the boat capsizes, and she falls into the lake. When her time-traveling shoes slip off and sink to the bottom she fears she’ll be stuck in the 1900’s forever and calls for help. Aiyana decides if she ever comes back to the past or braves the future, she needs to ask her aunt for advice. It has to go better next time, she hopes.

SYNOPSIS

Twelve-year-old Aiyana Mitchell has her Bubblegum Taffy Hot Pink High Heels on. She loves to sit on the back porch in the suburbs of Philadelphia. With her time-traveling shoes, she can travel to the future and the past. The shoes are a special, secret gift from her Aunt Olivia, who used them to travel so many places it seems she is on a constant vacation. But Aiyana’s mom always says: “It’s better to stay in the present—forget about the past and wait for the future.”

Despite her mother’s warning, Aiyana wants the adventure and mystery of the time-traveling shoes. She hides them under her bed and her mom never notices them. Now that she’s ready to use them, she thinks about traveling to the early 1900’s to a lake with a boat and a fancy parasol and swans. When she closes her eyes, she appears with a lace dress on, sitting in a boat on a lake. Aiyana grabs the side of the boat with her left hand. The parasol slips from her right hand.

Then the boat capsizes, and she falls into the lake. In all the commotion, Aiyana’s time-traveling shoes slip off and sink to the bottom. Fearing she’ll be stuck in the 1900’s forever, she pulls herself back up the side of the boat and cries: “Someone help me get my shoes back!” A proper gentleman in a full-body swimming suit, dives in her direction. Insisting she’s from the future she says she’d appreciate it so much if he would dive in and find her shoes, so she could return to 2018.

He makes a couple of dives then finally a hand arises with the Bubblegum Taffy Hot Pink High Heels and hands them to Aiyana. She pours out the sand and puts the shoes back on. Aiyana returns to the present on the back porch with her mother calling. As Aiyana walks into the kitchen, she creates a trail of footprints and a puddle of lake water. As her mom cleans up the mess, Aiyana runs upstairs before her mom can see her Bubblegum Taffy Hot Pink High Heels. Before she goes time-traveling again, she’ll ask her aunt for advice. It has to go better next time; she thinks to herself.

Copyright 2022 Jennifer Waters

Chubby Cheeks: The Story of the Skunk Who Wanted To Be a Squirrel

In a forest full of chubby-cheeked squirrels, Patches the Skunk felt like a stripey shadow who didn’t quite belong. He wished his cheeks puffed out like tiny pillows instead of carrying a scent that whooshed through the woods. Even the breeze seemed to wrinkle its nose at him.

If he had cheeks like a squirrel, he believed he could fit in. Instead, he was only a skunk. No one liked skunks because of their rotten smells. He whisked his black-and-white tail behind him and tried to stay positive, but he had a hard time accepting himself for who he was. 

Although he knew his scent was unwelcome, he didn’t think he smelled any worse than the other wild animals—unless he sprayed on purpose. Sometimes he had to just let it out. Other times, he slipped and tripped right into his own spray. 

Patches tried everything to keep his tail under control. He wrapped it around his paws and held it as still as he could, squinting with all his might. But the more he concentrated, the more it twitched. A tiny butterfly landed gently on the tip—and poof! a little stink cloud escaped. Patches sighed as the butterfly wobbled away in a dizzy zigzag. Even when he tried his hardest, his scent always seemed to sneak out.

“Always spreading your scent,” Pipsqueak the Prairie Dog said, holding his nose. 

“I have to get you a bottle of perfume,” Minky the Mink said as she fluffed her coat. 

“If I had chubby cheeks like a boy squirrel,” Patches said, hanging his head, “then I could find my own girl squirrel. Maybe nobody would make fun of me for smelling.” 

There was one girl squirrel he admired for a long time—Nibbles. Patches adored her blue eyes and brown coat, but he was too embarrassed to speak to her. His smell carried for yards, and Nibbles always hurried away before he could say a word.

“Why does he have to be so smelly?” she said one day, rushing past him. Over his shoulder, Patches saw Nibbles receiving flowers from another squirrel boy. His heart dropped. He knew he had to do something now. 

 “Maybe she could just pretend I’m a squirrel instead of a skunk,” he said. “I could dye my fur brown. Or wear a disguise!”

Before he gathered the flowers, Patches experimented with every disguise he could dream up. First, he rolled in mud to make his fur look brown, but the mud slid off in gloopy clumps. Then he taped a fluffy squirrel tail to his own, but it drooped sadly to the ground. He even tried a leafy wig and an acorn hat, but the leaves itched terribly, and the acorn kept falling over his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, Patches couldn’t pretend to be anything other than a skunk. Then he picked a bouquet for Nibbles. It was now or never. 

He tied flowers to his tail just in case they would cover his scent. 

“I’ll just hope I don’t smell anything other than the flowers,” he whispered to himself.

Nibbles was collecting nuts, her cheeks growing rounder and rounder, almost ready to burst. Patches thought they were the cutest cheeks he’d ever seen.

“Darling, these flowers are for you,” Patches said shyly. “You have the cutest chubby cheeks.”

But suddenly, the bouquet wilted from his scent. In all his excitement, he sprayed himself. The flowers tied to his tail drooped. Patches froze in embarrassment.

He wanted to give up. Maybe she would never like him.

“Chubby cheeks!” Nibbles gasped. “Umm…thank you. These are the nicest flowers I’ve ever received. All the boy squirrels think I’m overweight.”

Patches blinked. Nibbles had her own worries, too.

If he could smell himself, then she surely could—but she didn’t run. Right then and there, Patches decided to speak to her without hiding a thing. The real him would have to be enough. 

“What nonsense!” Patches said. “You’re beautiful just the way you are. I love your chubby cheeks!”

“I love you exactly the way you are, too,” Nibbles said, smiling from ear to ear.

From behind a tree, Pipsqueak and Minky peeked out, watching the happy couple disappear into the forest. 

Pipsqueak pinched his nose with both paws while Minky waved a tiny bottle of perfume in the air. But even as a gentle stink cloud drifted their way, both of them grinned.

Patches the Skunk and Nibbles the Squirrel lived happily ever after in the forest. He brought her flowers every day, even on the days he sprayed by accident.

And whenever Patches let out his scent—which happened often—Nibbles simply held her nose, giggled, and kissed his cheek. All because love smelled sweeter than flowers. 

Copyright 2019 Jennifer Waters

LOGLINE

When a lonely skunk who hates his own smell falls in love with a chubby-cheeked squirrel, he tries disguises, flowers, and anything he can to fit in—until he learns that being loved starts with being himself.

 

PITCH

Patches the Skunk longs to fit in with the chubby-cheeked squirrels of the forest, especially Nibbles, the squirrel he secretly adores. But his strong smell keeps everyone—especially Nibbles—running away. When Patches sees another squirrel give Nibbles flowers, he decides he must change himself to win her attention. He tries disguises, mud, fake squirrel tails, and sweet-smelling flowers, but everything falls apart when his scent wilts his bouquet and exposes his tricks. Just as Patches is about to give up, Nibbles reveals she has insecurities of her own. Speaking to her honestly at last, Patches discovers she likes him exactly as he is, and the two begin an unlikely forest romance—stink clouds, chubby cheeks, and all.