Swept up in a story

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In the list of things I want my children to look back on their growing up years and remember, my voice narrating truly inspiring tales is high. Very high. Top five, actually.

Over the years, I’ve read too many books to number to this crew. We’ve hit pretty much every genre. I’ve voiced orphaned girls, lost boys, hiding elves, mice pursued by pirates. One of the biggest revelations to me, as a homeschooling mother who wanted to bring her children up on stories that matter was this: the classics are, by and far, the best of the best. Yes, there are gems in more modern literature. But nine times out of ten, it’s the stuff that our grandparents had on their shelves that inspires, that enlightens, that broadens horizons.

I’m not a fatalist. I don’t believe that authors simply ran out of imagination in 1950. I don’t look down my nose at every tale spun after my own date of birth. Instead, I’m encouraged to look deeper, to keep plowing through. Because I tell you what, when you find the diamond resting in the coal hopper, you recognize what a treasure you have on your hands.

This was the case when we stumbled onto The Green Ember, by S.D. Smith. It’s been a long, long time since a story grabbed me the way this one did. And I wasn’t alone.

“Are we reading ‘Heather and Picket’?” five-year old Birdie would ask every afternoon as lunch rolled around. She wanted to steal another peek— even if it was just half a chapter— into that world, and savor it before the day plunged forward.

“Heather and Picket” sums it all up, really. Our whole family found themselves somehow invested in these two rabbits, urging them forward on this seemingly lost cause-style quest headed who knows where. Chapter by chapter we discovered, together, not just plot points and betrayal and newfound chances to summon up a previously unknown level of bravery, but also an uncommon sprinkling of truth. This was a book we weren’t just reading, but were encountering in our hearts. By the time we reached the end of the first novel, it was almost a relief to dig into the prequel (The Blackstar of Kingston) and take a breather from the peril and the beautiful sacrifice all around The Green Ember. Not that Blackstar wasn’t its own brand of tantalizing storytelling; it is a fantastic stand-alone tale, a quick novel that asks, “What does ‘loyalty’ mean?” and leaves you quietly contemplating what further trials await.

And wait we did.

Our family supported the Kickstarter campaign that brought the newest installment of our beloved Heather and Picket, Ember Falls, into print. The kids were thrilled to know that more was coming, and somehow in the midst of packing, and moving, and life, they still managed to ask every week or so if the book was on its way yet. John Mark, who had celebrated turning 8 by receiving a t-shirt with the Green Ember motto and a handmade version of Picket’s sword, shield, and scabbard, was the worst.

“Is it on its way?” he asked, heading out to battle more birds of prey and defend his sister in the process. For weeks, it wasn’t.

And finally, it was.

The day the package arrived, we had some very, very happy children here. The best parts of The Green Ember– the longing for what was lost, the holding fast to hope– had never left us. Now they were spreading out before us again, ready to take us on another journey to the places where we become somehow capable of things we never knew were knit into us.

I’m not going to reveal any spoilers here, but know this: we are not disappointed in the development of the character of our rabbit friends, nor in the continuing arc this story has taken.

Ember Falls has given us more chances to talk about the frailty of life, the precious gift of friendship, the joy of serving a Master whose cause is just and true. It has made us ponder evil, and the many forms it takes.

In short, it has done that magical something that all good books, new and old, manage: it has made us remember who we are and what we are called to do while at the same time showing us how it can be done. All with rabbits and swords, and friends and family. All with a story.