There’s a Happyville Christmas near you
One of my responsibilities at the newspaper is to thumb through older volumes of the newspaper in order to complete a feature we call “From the Files.”
We have chosen to take a glance at the corresponding weeks from 1949, 1969 and 1989.
I’ve certainly discovered some interesting things during my searches.
Here’s one of which I was especially fond. It appeared in the 1969 Christmas edition of The Demopolis Times; however, there was no indication of where it came from or who had written it.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Once there was a village called “Happyville” high in the mountains of a far-off land.
It was a happy place most of the time, but on a few occasions, there was a bit of sadness here and there – which made Happyville more or less like villages and towns anywhere in the world.
Happyville was famous in a particular part of the world because of the Happyville Christmas tree. Each Christmas Eve, high on the very top of the mountain, the tree was visible for miles, a perfectly cone-shaped arrangements of lights, blinking on and off like a beacon in the sky.
There are some who say that Happyville never existed. Men have searched the mountain in recent decades and found no evidence to prove anything one way or the other.
The simple truth of the matter is that Happyville still exists. And were you to climb that mountain this Christmas, with faith enough in your heart, you might just see that
Christmas tree blinking high against the sky.
Many years ago, so the legend of Happyville goes, Happyville was a home for little people. These little people were friendly with birds and animals and at peace with all creatures of the world. They even talked with the animals, more evidence of the wonderment of the village atop the Mountain of Faith.
The first Christmas tree appeared at the top of the mountain long, long ago right after a visit from a jolly, old man in a red suit of clothes.
He was a sky traveler, and he came to ask the people of Happyville for a small favor.
Once each year, he told the little people, he planned to fly over their mountain and he would be ever so grateful if they would build a fire or light some candles to help guide him on his journey to the south. It seemed a simple enough request,
so the people readily agreed.
But there was a problem. When the day approached for the fire to be built, they realized they had no way to build it. They knew nothing of fire-building. Something else had to be done.
A village conference was held. Everyone attended, even the birds and animals. After many hours of conference, a plan was made. It was a simple plan, but whether there was time to put it into operation was another matter.
In any event, when the meeting ended, the hawks, eagles, robins and wrens – every winged creature – flew down the mountain to the north, south, east and west, searching and searching.
On that first trip, the jolly old man, whom we now know as Santa Claus, passed high above the Mountain of Faith and marveled at the beauty of a Christmas tree – blinking on and off with the golden light of a million fireflies.
So, now you know the legend of the Happyville Christmas tree and why you never see fireflies about during the winter.
The Mountain of Faith still exists. We can’t tell you exactly where it is; but you can find it if you try and if you really believe.
You may find its reflection in the lights of your family Christmas tree or in the flickering of a church candle. Look closely and you may see.
The little people are all around you. You may not recognize them, but you can hear their happy voices if you close your eyes and open your heart and mind to the magic of Christmas.
There is a Happyville near you; all you have to do is find it.