Folktales, Legends and Superstitions for the New Year

Happy New Year, my friends!

Let's start this year with stories Here is one that I remember reading when I was a child. Links to other stories follow at the end, as well as a link to my post a few years ago about New Year's traditions and superstitions. 

The Fairy's New Year Gift

by Emilie Poulsson 1853-1939

Two little boys were at play one day when a Fairy suddenly appeared before them and said, "I have been sent to give you New Year presents."

She handed to each child a package, and in an instant was gone.

Carl and Philip opened the packages and found in them two beautiful books, with pages as pure and white as the snow when it first falls.

Many months passed and the Fairy came again to the boys. "I have brought you each another book?" said she, "and will take the first ones back to Father Time who sent them to you."

"May I not keep mine a little longer?" asked Philip. "I have hardly thought about it lately. I'd like to paint something on the last leaf that lies open."

"No," said the Fairy; "I must take it just as it is."

"I wish that I could look through mine just once," said Carl; "I have only seen one page at a time, for when the leaf turns over it sticks fast, and I can never open the book at more than one place each day."

"You shall look at your book," said the Fairy, "and Philip, at his." And she lit for them two little silver lamps, by the light of which they saw the pages as she turned them.

The boys looked in wonder. Could it be that these were the same fair books she had given them a year ago? Where were the clean, white pages, as pure and beautiful as the snow when it first falls? Here was a page with ugly, black spots and scratches upon it; while the very next page showed a lovely little picture. Some pages were decorated with gold and silver and gorgeous colors, others with beautiful flowers, and still others with a rainbow of softest, most delicate brightness. Yet even on the most beautiful of the pages there were ugly blots and scratches.

Carl and Philip looked up at the Fairy at last.

"Who did this?" they asked. "Every page was white and fair as we opened to it; yet now there is not a single blank place in the whole book!"

"Shall I explain some of the pictures to you?" said the Fairy, smiling at the two little boys.

"See, Philip, the spray of roses blossomed on this page when you let the baby have your playthings; and this pretty bird, that looks as if it were singing with all its might, would never have been on this page if you had not tried to be kind and pleasant the other day, instead of quarreling."

"But what makes this blot?" asked Philip.

"That," said the Fairy sadly; "that came when you told an untruth one day, and this when you did not mind mamma. All these blots and scratches that look so ugly, both in your book and in Carl's, were made when you were naughty. Each pretty thing in your books came on its page when you were good."

"Oh, if we could only have the books again!" said Carl and Philip.

"That cannot be," said the Fairy. "See! they are dated for this year, and they must now go back into Father Time's bookcase, but I have brought you each a new one. Perhaps you can make these more beautiful than the others."

So saying, she vanished, and the boys were left alone, but each held in his hand a new book open at the first page.

And on the back of this book was written in letters of gold, "For the New Year."

Want more stories for the New Year?

An Okinawa story of a return for kindness at the New Year.

New Year's superstitions from the Farmer's Almanac. Be sure to open all your doors and windows at midnight!

Hats for statues? Well, it brought luck to one Japanese couple, long, long ago.

In Iceland, it is the elves who show up on New Year's Eve. Lots more about Icelandic lore at Wikipedia.


And then there's my blog post about a wide variety of traditions and superstitions that revolve around this day. Am I superstitious? Well, of course not...but I will eat my cabbage and be watchful of that first-footer...

I also wrote this post about New Year's celebrations.

Wishing you and yours peace, comfort, serenity and good health in the coming year!


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Poets, Writers and Storytellers New Year: Sharing Winter Joys

Storyteller, writer, poet and educator Gail Froyen lives in Iowa, a place gifted with winter snows and cold. She shares her thoughts about where she lives and the turning of the year in today's post. 

New Year’s Resolutions—I DO NOT make any. For a few years earlier in my life, I gave it a try. Never lasted. 

Some years ago I discovered “A Testament” by Anthony de Mello SJ and started using this list to reflect on my life. I review and amend this once or twice a year, on my birthday in August and/or around the beginning of a new year. I love the way the testament begins with “Things I have loved in life” followed by I have love to taste, to look at, to smell, to hear, to feel or touch. 

Thinking winter things I have loved in life, about the coming year and winter in Iowa brought me to this.

Sharing winter joys

crisp winter air

           Snow falling on pines

                      landing on my cheeks and tongue

soft silence after a winter snow

            the crunch of boots

wood and wax burning

           flames flickering and dancing

                       in fireplaces or candles

cinnamon on oatmeal

            or drifting from the oven

silence the moment before the conductor’s downbeat

             music filling the air

                        bells chiming

hope springing

____________________________________________________

About Gail Froyen:

A native Iowan Gail was born in Sioux City, the youngest of six daughters. The family moved to Des Moines and she graduated from North Des Moines High School. Her next Iowa stop was Cedar Falls attending Iowa State Teachers College. Gail was introduced to storytelling while earning a MA in Library Science at the University of Northern Iowa (same school).

 The first time she told a story to the Lowell School Second graders, she was hooked. No Velcro was disturbed on any shoes, no one poked a neighbor, all eyes were fastened on the teller and all ears drinking in the story. A few years later she began working with students who wanted to be tellers and used this project for her MA paper “The Effects of Storytelling Experiences on Vocabulary Skills of Second Grade Students” which can be found at the Storytelling in Schools site developed by Kate Dudding and Jackie Baldwin.

Gail incorporated a variety of storytelling experiences as the librarian at Lowell Elementary, Waterloo IA and the University of Northern Iowa’s Price Laboratory School, from 1980-1998. Students’ classroom units, workshops at local, state, and national conferences, and special events for schools and other organizations in northeast Iowa were among the ways she promoted storytelling. She was twice a featured teller at the Iowa Storytelling Festival. Clear Lake, Iowa, conducted retreats, and shared programs of stories for reflection during the Advent and Lenten seasons for 15 years.

Gail credits much growth as a teller through her association with Northlands Storytelling Network, the National Storytelling Network (formerly NAPPS), and the Storytell listserv. She seldom misses a meeting of the tribe at National Conferences. At 78 years of age, she is morphing from storyteller to story listener. Referring to herself as the Occasional Poet, she also composes poems and stories about her family. Currently she is writing a history of the Price Laboratory School Library from 1953-2012. Married to Len for 57+ years, they have two sons and a daughter, four grandchildren and 3 great grands.

Stories abound.

Contact Gail at gail.froyen@cfu.net  

Poets, Writers and Storytellers New Year: Waiting for Old Christmas

One of West Virginia's best poets has shared a poem for our New Years series. Sherrell Wigal weaves words with such strong imagery I feel like I can reach out and touch the places and people of which she writes. 

(Old Christmas, as you probably know, is January 6th. The date was changed to December 25th when 12 more days were added to the calendar when the Gregorian calendar replaced the Julian calendar in 1752.)

Waiting for Old Christmas

Morning falls open.

The house is quiet

as the rooms of old men,

dim as their pale eyes,

slow as their shuffle from bed

to bath, to chair, to bath, to bed.

All day I stay and expect

the unnamed to come

or to happen.

Maybe a wing will open

 like a golden promise,

a guarantee against  forgotten.

It is almost next year,

there is nowhere to go,

nothing to put away,

no one with easy words.

Still I wait. It is what I do

in late December.

In ten days I will sleep late,

wake in afternoon light.

Walk to the barn in the far meadow,

through deep snow,  under a new moon

where cattle will rise up,

and speak to me at midnight.

Sherrell Wigal

________________________________________

Sherrell Wigal is a poet originally from Roane County, West Virginia, now living in Wood County.  Until 1999, she served for many years as director of the West Virginia Writer’s annual conference, and has been the past coordinator of the literary events tent at the West Virginia State Folk Festival.  She conducts numerous creative writing workshops throughout the area, including the annual week-long Allegheny Echoes Workshops in June of each year in Pocahontas County, WV.  Sherrell is also a performance poet and has performed throughout West Virginia and surrounding states.  Her list of performances includes the Arthur Brandon Humanities Lecture series at Alderson-Broaddus College, the Rhythm and Rhyme series at Kanawha County Public Library, the annual Vandalia Gathering and the Stonewall Jackson Jubilee.  In May 2005 she was one of the featured artists in North Carolina at the Caldwell County Arts Council where she participated in a unique presentation of two and three dimension art and poetry.  Her writing appears in many publications throughout the country.  Much of Sherrell's poetry reflects her love, appreciation and connection to nature, people and the cultural heritage of West Virginia.  

You can read more of Sherrell's poetry on her blog, Sherrell's Poetry Pages.

Poets, Writers and Storytellers New Year: Visiting Our Past

December is coming to a close, and the new year comes toward us, one minute at a time. We end this year with some thoughts from my literary friends that will, I believe, inspire us to consider deeply the passing of time and the coming of the future as we watch this old year wane. 

The start of a new year often causes us to review our past and reflect on what was valuable and what was not. Here Debbie Richard, a native of Calhoun County, West Virginia, takes us back to the Calhoun of her growing-up years.

Visiting Our Past

Drowned in the media-present,

we are tempted to move away from our past,

pursuing Utopian dreams,

leaving ancestral homes behind

in the pre-electronic age.

Relics, a rhinestone belt buckle, a red

View-Master gathering dust, grandma’s

antique cash register we played with as children,

family heirlooms tucked away in a closet,

a spare room forgotten.

Seeking out pieces strewn across

the framework of our lives–

Experiences from our landscape,

green hills and mountain ridges,

The two-room schoolhouse we attended as children,

Dad’s ’57 Chevy, a 4-door Bel Air sedan,

shiny two-tone light mauve and white,

Mother’s memories of the Mount Zion

Drive-in Theater on Rt. 16 in Calhoun County.

from Mount Zion's Facebook page

The excitement of the county fair at Camp Barbe

in Wirt County, West Virginia–

the oom-pa-pa of the Beer Barrel Polka

playing over the loud speaker,

the multicolored Ferris Wheel

circling overhead as we ate hotdogs

and drank cold soda pop

to the tune of In the Good Old Summertime,

the squeal of the greased pig as my brother

(clad in blue jeans, rolled up at the cuffs,

and a white T-shirt) chased it around the ring,

competing for a blue ribbon,

the clang-clang of the Nail-Driving contest

and the Horseshoe pitching contest,

the sticky sweetness of cotton candy,

candy apples, and corndogs on a stick.

We try to forget what we never expected to find.

--Debbie Richard

About Debbie, from her website: 

Debbie Richard is a native of West Virginia. Born in Parkersburg, she spent her early childhood in the rural community of Munday in Wirt County, and lived near Walton in Roane County during her high school years. Debbie studied Secretarial Science at West Virginia Career College in Charleston where she completed her courses in 1987 with honors. 

She moved to South Carolina as an adult, following her love of the ocean. After twelve years as a Report Analyst for a healthcare organization, she resigned in March 2009 to become full-time caregiver for her mother, Naomi Karen (Maze) Richard, who grew up near Big Bend in Calhoun County, West Virginia.

It's something to sing about when Earl Hamner, Jr. praises your work! "I think the book is a valuable detailed and most honest documentation of a part of Appalachia that has not been celebrated so well until now." --Earl Hamner, Jr., bestselling author of Spencer's Mountain and creator of the beloved The Waltons television series.  

Debbie offers a short two minute video, "Hills of Home, Book Trailer" highlighting her book. You can watch it by clicking here.

Hills of Home, published by eLectio Publishing of Little Elm, Texas offers a rich literary patchwork of reflection, memoir, and humor. Though comprised of a mosaic of individual stories, the compilation reads like a novel, and is characterized uniquely with the author's personal diary entries and a sailor's letters home.

Debbie is listed in the Directory of Poets & Writers as both a poet and creative nonfiction writer. Her poems have appeared in various journals and magazines including Halcyon, WestWard Quarterly, and The Storyteller. Her chapbook, Resiliency, was published in 2012 by Finishing Line Press of Georgetown, Kentucky. She is currently working on her second book of poetry with plans to have it illustrated.

Contact Debbie at poet@debbierichard.com

For more about Calhoun County, visit the Hur Herald online newspaper.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.