I heard the following story 40 years ago when I was a member of a singing group at Utah State University known as "The Sounds of Zion." At that time the story ended with Santa saying, "I'm afraid you're right, it's just too little." I thought the story was way funny, and have since tried to tell it to several other people. Every time I tell it and give the punch line, they just look at me like I'm weird or something. I wanted to learn a Christmas story, but I guess the disappointing ending doesn't work for me real well. So, I have added on to the ending so that I can use this story with my storytelling. I hope you like it.
The Littlest Christmas Bell
In a small village near the Austrian
Alps was a tiny little bell-maker's shop. It was just a few days
before Christmas and a light snow was falling on an already
snow-packed ground. Villagers were scurrying about the shops in
town, trying to complete their Christmas shopping.
The little old bell maker was busy in
his shop, carefully arranging the bells he had to entice his
customers. People liked bells at Christmas-time, and his business
had been brisk and profitable. He had sold everything from large
church bells, to small hand-rung bells. There was, in town, a
resident bell choir that always performed during the Christmas
season. Jingle bells had been particularly popular this year among
the townspeople, and he had just one tiny jingle bell left, displayed
on a top shelf near the back of his shop. The bell had been there a
long time, and the dust on the shelf testified of its lengthy stay.
Still, the little bell rested patiently, awaiting the time when it
surely would be sold.
The days passed, and customers passed
in and out, emptying the shop of its inventory. Still, the jingle
bell waited patiently, wondering just who would purchase him and how
he would be used. Then finally, it was the day before Christmas, and
the traffic inside the shop dropped off dramatically, as the people
in the village completed their holiday shopping and retired to their
home for final preparations. The old bell maker strolled about the
shop, peering out the window just before dusk. Darkness descended as
the evening came on, and the lights in the bell-maker's shop beamed
through the windows highlighting the folds in the snow. An old clock
on the wall slowly ticked into the night. Six o' clock came, and the
man began to pull down the shades of his shop, and lock the door. He
quietly turned out the lights in the shop one by one, then turned
toward the door while retrieving his keys from his pocket.
The tiny little Christmas bell sat in
dismay. Christmas was nearly here, and he was still on the shelf.
He had been looked at many times by patrons of the shop, but the
comments were always “too little “, “just too
little.” Maybe it was true. He was just too little. Nobody
wanted a tiny little jingle bell.
The shopkeeper finished locking the
front door while a big tear formed on the jingle bell's cheek, then
slid down into the dust, making a tiny mud puddle there on the shelf.
The shopkeeper walked to the back of his shop, turned out the
lights, then exited through the doorway to his living quarters in the
rear of the building. The shop was dark. The tiny little bell cried
softly on the shelf. “Dingle, dingle, dingle.” How he wanted to
be taken home by someone to celebrate Christmas.
The snow outside began to come down
harder, in large flakes that piled up quickly all over the village.
Lights in the cottages and homes turned out one by one as the night
deepened. A quiet stillness settled in as the villagers retired to
their beds for the night. The littlest Christmas bell was still
sobbing quietly when a distant sound caught his attention. There was
something jostling in the air above the village, growing louder and
louder as it approached the bell shop. The sound was of - - bells,
jingle bells ringing clear but unevenly as the sound became closer
and closer. Then suddenly, there was a big clunk that shook the
ceiling of the shop, and then several pounding noises. Something was
stomping around on the roof! There was more than one, there had to
be lots of them. The bell was struck with wonder about the noise and
commotion on the top of the building.
Then an amazing thing happened. Just
across the shop from the shelf where the bell rested was a large
stone fireplace. Suddenly, chunks of soot crashed down to the floor
of the fireplace, creating a small puff of smoke inside the room.
Then, with a loud thump, two large black boots appeared, with
red-clad legs poking out the top. A large, white-bearded man bent
down and squeezed through the opening in the fireplace. Lights
flickered on in the shop, as the old shopkeeper entered from the
hallway at the end of the room, awakened by the noise from the
chimney. He squinted hard to see, then said, “Santa? Is that you,
Santa?”
“Ho-ho-ho Merry Chistmas, M-e-r-r-y
Christmas!”
“Why Santa, how kind of you to stop
in my humble shop. But you musn't spend much time here. There are
no children here.”
“Ho-ho, I know, I know. But I need
your help, good bell-maker. It's a very stormy night outside, with
lots of snow. My reindeer are having a hard time navigating. The
rhythm of the bells on the sleigh harness is a great help to them on
such a night as this. But you see, we have lost one jingle bell off
the harness along our way, and the missing jingle and jangle of that
one bell have thrown my reindeer out of rhythm, making it difficult
for them to pull together along our way. We are hoping you have just
one more jingle bell to attach to the harness. Tell me, good
bell-maker, do you happen to have such a bell?”
“Oh Santa,” the bell-maker replied,
“'Tis the night before Christmas and sales have been brisk. It has
been a good year for selling bells. I'm afraid my stock is depleted.
See all the empty shelves?”
Santa looked back with a look of
disappointment. “Then you don't have just one jingle bell that can
fill that empty spot in my riggings?”
“I'm afraid not, San – but wait,
there is just one tiny little jingle bell on my top shelf near the
back. It's a good bell, but I'm afraid it may be too little – just
too little.”
Santa's expression changed to one of
hope. “Oh, do get it for me, good bell-maker. Please, let me see
it.”
The bell-maker retrieved a ladder
leaning against the wall and carried it over to the shelf.
Carefully, he climbed up to where he could reach back and grasp the
littlest jingle bell. He held the tiny bell between his right thumb
and fore-finger, and climbed back down the ladder. He held up the
bell and looked through his spectacles as he moved over toward the
light.
“It's a bit dirty,” he said, then
blew on the bell and rubbed it against his night shirt to polish it
up.
“Oh, put it in my hand,” said
Santa. “Let me get a good look at this precious little bell.”
The bell-maker placed the bell in the
center of Santa's enormous palm. The jingle bell was dwarfed by the
huge folds of skin around the center of Santa's palm. He held it up
close to his eyes and examined it closely, turning it from one side
to the next. Then he shook the bell gently to hear it ring.
“Dingle Dingle”
“Ho-ho-ho. It's really cute.
But....but...but... I'm afraid you're right, it's too little! Just
too little!
(pause)
“But I'll try it anyway. Santa took
the bell and turned excitedly toward his sleigh. He quickly walked
over to the sled and up to the lead reindeer. He reached down to
where the jingle bells were on the reins. He had to get down on his
hands and knees to reach way underneath the lead deer to where there
was a place on the strap where a jingle bell was missing. As he
stretched out his hand with the bell balancing on the end of his
fingers, the bell rolled off of his glove and plunged into a huge
snowbank. “Rats!” Santa said, “we don't have time to look for
it, we're just going to have to go without it. It was too little.
Just too little”
Just then, Rudolf kicked in the snow
and there was an unmistakeable jingle sound. Santa looked down and
saw a gleam of light reflecting and reached down and pulled out the
jingle bell. He wiped the snow off and then took off his glove and
tightly gripped the jingle bell as he reached toward the fastener on
the rein where the lost jingle bell had been. He twisted the bell to
the right, then to the left, then pushed hard to get it attached. As
he did so, he heard a “snap” and felt the tiny bell crush in his
fingers. It was attached, but smashed. “Shucks”, said Santa.
“That bell was too little. Just too little.”
Santa got up and brushed the snow from
his bright red coat. “Man,” he said, “I really thought that
bell was going to work. This is really disappointing. But I guess
that's just life.” He walked back around the reindeer to his sled.
He climbed up in his sleigh, sat down and grabbed hold of the reins.
He looked ahead at the reindeer, then shouted out, “On Dasher, on
Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donder and
Blitzen. And you too, Rudolf.” He shook the reins hard. There
was a curious ring from the sleigh bells. There was a distinctive
“Ding ding-le” after the jingle of all the bells. It was coming
from the littlest Christmas bell! The reindeer were startled by this
out-of-place sound and leaped in the air, giving the sleigh a mighty
jerk. The sled sprung into the air as Santa shouted out “Up, up,
and away.” They dashed into the night, with sleigh bells jingling,
and every once in a while, if you listened real close, you could hear
a distinctive noise, just a little different than all the others,
that rang out “Ding Ding-le, Ding, Ding, ding-le.” It was as if
the littlest Christmas Bell was calling out “Too-Little, just too
little.” It was just different and odd enough to keep the reindeer
alert as they traveled through the night.
And so Santa made his rounds that night
with the sound of a bell that made a sound different than all the
rest, and who by all accounts was “too-little,”
“just-too-little.” And yet, that made a sound that could be
heard by anyone who would really listen close, and provided a guide
to the reindeer, and those who had the intent to give.
In another place, at another time, the
little cry of a tiny infant evidenced the birth of one who was to be
a guide through the darkness and perils of life. Born in a stable
that was “too-little” in terms of comforts, and to parents who
had “too-little” in terms of earthly wealth, his voice would soon
sound a different way of life. The message he brought was one of
comfort, peace, safety and joy to all “who would listen.” At
this season may we hear the gospel tones of the Lord Jesus Christ as
we celebrate his birth and life which gives hope to all, even to
those who feel that they are just “too little.” May you all
cherish His gifts of Life and Joy as you provide love and service to
others. And don't forget – Ding-dingle, Ding-ding-dingle.”
