Category: Children;s stories

for my godson Geoffrey

Janey danced in a circle around Benjamin. She sang and jeered at him.

“He’s making a list,
And checking it twice,
Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town.

“No Christmas presents for you-oo!

“No Christmas presents for you-oo!

“’Cause you’re bad!

“He knows when you are sleeping.
He knows when you’re awake.
He knows when you’ve been bad or good.
So be good for goodness’ sake.

“No Christmas presents for you-oo!

“No Christmas presents for you-oo!

“’Cause you’re bad!”

That night Benjamin couldn’t sleep. A voice kept saying very quietly, “You’re not a good boy. You do bad things.”

“I am too a good boy,” replied Benjamin.

“Not really,” said the voice. “You know your mother and father are disappointed in you. You know you do bad things.”

“I am too a good boy,” said Benjamin.

But Benjamin really didn’t believe what he was saying. He believed the voice. He was a bad boy. He was a disappointment to his parents. He wouldn’t get any presents for Christmas.

The next day Benjamin tried hard to be good. Whenever his mother or father told him to do something, he did it right away. His mother told him to clean his room, so he ran upstairs, put his toys away, picked up his dirty clothes and put them in the laundry hamper, collected all his crayon drawings and put them in his drawers, straightened out his clothes in the closet, and even tried to make his bed. When his mother came upstairs, she started to say something and then stopped, looked all around the room, looked at Benjamin in a funny kind of way and said, “Why, Benjamin, how nice! You did a very good job! Thank you.”

Benjamin smiled and thought to himself, “See! I am too a good boy! I will get presents for Christmas!”

But it was awfully hard being good, so pretty soon Benjamin forgot. That’s when he got into trouble.

It happened like this.

Benjamin’s grandmother collected vases. Everywhere she went grandmother came home with vases — big vases and little vases, red vases and yellow vases, plain vases and fancy vases, vases that looked like people and vases that had stories painted on them, vases from China and vases from Iowa, vases of every kind. One afternoon when Benjamin came home from school his mother was putting a big, funny-looking vase on the dining room table.

“Now you stay away from that vase, Benjamin,” she said. “It’s for your grandmother, and I don’t want you to get anywhere near it.”

Then she went into the kitchen. Benjamin looked at the vase. He couldn’t see it very well from across the room. What kind of vase was it? What were those markings on it? Maybe he could get up a little closer to see. He knew he shouldn’t. His mother had told him not to get anywhere near it. But it wouldn’t hurt just to get up close. He wouldn’t even touch it.

So Benjamin walked carefully over to the table, stretched up on tip-toes, put his elbows on the edge of the table and leaned forward to look at the vase. It was a wonderful vase! It had beautiful little drawings all over it — animals and birds and trees and flowers. He was very careful not to touch it and not to move. When he finished looking, he backed away carefully, but his elbows dragged against the table cloth and the next thing you knew — bang! crash! — the vase fell off the table and broke into pieces! Benjamin’s mother came running into the dining room.

“Oh, Benjamin!” she screeched. “How could you! I just got done telling you not to! You bad boy! Grandmother’s vase!”

And she started to cry.

Now Benjamin became sure he would receive no presents for Christmas. He was a bad boy and bad boys don’t get Christmas presents. He became a very quiet boy during the days just before Christmas. His mother and father kept asking him if he felt all right. Was he sick? Was there something wrong? But he just said he was all right and everything was all right. He felt hopeless. There was nothing he could do, nothing anybody could do.

Usually on Christmas morning Benjamin could hardly contain himself. He would keep running from his room to his parents’ room begging them to hurry and get dressed and come downstairs to see what Santa had brought. But this year he got up quietly and sat on his bed waiting until his parents were ready to go downstairs. He knew that even though there would be no presents for him, he was not supposed to go downstairs until his mother and father said it was all right. His mother came into his room looking worried.

“Is there something wrong, Benjamin?” she asked. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m all right, mama.”

Benjamin’s father looked over his mother’s shoulder. “But you seem awfully sad for a little boy on Christmas day, Benjamin. I’ve never seen such a sad-looking little boy. There must be something wrong.”

“Well,” said Benjamin.

“Yes,” said his mother and father.

“Well,” said Benjamin and mumbled something.

“What did you say?” said his mother and father. “We couldn’t hear you.”

“I won’t get — “ said Benjamin and started to cry.

Benjamin’s mother and father looked at each other and came and sat down beside Benjamin on his bed and put their arms around him and said, “Tell us, Benjamin. What is it? What won’t you get?”

“I won’t get any presents,” said Benjamin very quietly.

“You won’t get any presents!” said Benjamin’s father.

“No presents!” said Benjamin’s mother. “Why not?” they both said together.

“Because I’m a bad boy,” said Benjamin.

“A bad boy!” said Benjamin’s mother and father. “You are not a bad boy! You’re a wonderful boy!”

“But I broke grandmother’s vase,” said Benjamin to his mother. “And I made you cry.”

“Oh, Benjamin! Benjamin!” said his mother. “No matter how many vases you break your daddy and I love you. We don’t keep lists of what you do wrong.”

“But the song,” said Benjamin, “the song says Santa keeps a list. He knows when we’ve been bad or good.”

“That song is mean,” said Benjamin’s father. “It’s a mean lie from beginning to end. Santa Claus doesn’t keep lists of bad boys and girls. Your mother and I don’t keep a list, and God doesn’t keep a list.”

“Oh,” said Benjamin.

“Do you know why we give presents on Christmas?” said Benjamin’s father.

“Because Santa Claus comes,” said Benjamin.

“Because God loves us, all of us,” said Benjamin’s father. “He loves everybody — so much he gave us his Son Jesus even when we were being bad. God doesn’t wait for us to be good to love us. He gives us Jesus even when we’re being bad.”

Suddenly Benjamin felt good all over. He sat very quietly for a while. Then he looked at his mother and father, and they looked at him, and he said, “Let’s go downstairs and look at our presents.”

And they did. And Christmas that year was better than any Christmas they had ever had.

Warner White

Benjamin lay flat on his belly in the grass with his hands propping up his head and looked and looked and looked. There in front of him was an ant hill! Long lines of ants streamed in and out. They never stopped. Several ants were carrying things almost larger than they were. “How can they do that?” wondered Benjamin. “Why are they all coming and going? What’s inside the ant hill? What do they eat? Why are there so many of them? Do they eat grass?” Benjamin had many questions.

Just then his mother called. “Benjamin! Benjamin! Come on in. It’s time to eat.”

Benjamin slowly got up from the grass, and then he started to run to the house.

“Mother! Mother!” he shouted as he ran. “Mother! Mother!”

His mother came to the door. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, Mother. You should see the ants. Come see the ants!”

“No, Benjamin. I haven’t time right now. Lunch is ready and then you have to get back to school. If you don’t move along, you’re going to be late.”

“But, Mother,” said Benjamin.

“No buts about it,” said Benjamin’s mother. “Now move!”

“Aw, mom,” said Benjamin, “you don’t know what you’re missing.”

That afternoon in school Benjamin looked out the window at the tree that brushed up against it. The tree had funny little seed pods hanging from it. They looked like polliwogs. He had seen them before. “They fly in the wind,” he thought to himself, “when they fall from the tree. They sort of whirl around. I wonder why they do that? Why are there so many of them? If they all grow up to be trees, there’ll be so many trees we won’t be able to walk in the yard. There’ll be a big wall of trees all around the school, and we won’t be able to get in or out. They’ll have to close the school, and then what will we do?”

“Benjamin! Benjamin!” said his teacher. “There you go again! Daydreaming! Now please pay attention.”

The next day was Saturday. Benjamin’s grandfather took him to the zoo.

“Ooh,” said Benjamin, “aah. Look at that bird!”

“Ooh,” said Grandfather, “aah. I like that! Isn’t it pretty!”

“Ooh,” said Benjamin, “aah. Look at the rhinoceros!”

“Ooh,” said Grandfather, “aah. I wonder why it has just one horn?”

“And why,” said Benjamin, “is it so heavy?”

“And why,” said Grandfather, “is it black? Why isn’t it green?”

“Or blue or red?” said Benjamin.

“Or polka dotted or striped? Or with wings or a helicopter’s whirling blades?” said Grandfather.

“Or with blond hair or big red ears or a long pointed nose?” said Benjamin.

“What fun!” said Grandfather. “Didn’t God make a wonderful world!”

“Yes, he did, Grandfather. Yes, he did. But why don’t grownups notice, Grandfather? Why are they always telling me to do something else? I like just to look.”

“Grownups are in a hurry, Benjamin. Only grandparents and children have time for the important things in life. Grownups are busy doing things they think are important, but they miss the most important thing of all. They miss seeing God!”

“Oh, Grampa, will I be that way when I grow up? Will I stop seeing all the wonderful things of God?”

“I don’t know, Benjamin. You will probably get in a hurry like other grownups. You will probably have lots to do and lots of worries. But I hope you’ll remember all the wonderful things you are seeing now, and will remember to stop once in a while and look at them.”

“I hope so too, Grampa. I hope so too.”

Warner White

“Benjamin!  Benjamin!” said Benjamin’s teacher, “are you paying attention to me?  Did you hear a word I said?  I’m trying to teach you arithmetic and you’re looking out the window daydreaming.  You’ll turn into a balloon and float away if you don’t learn to keep your feet on the ground.”  All the kids laughed.

“Benjamin!  Benjamin!” said Billy during recess, “you’ll turn into a balloon and float away!  You’re already a balloon!”  Then Billy and the other kids began to chant–

BENJAMIN’S A BALLOON!

BENJAMIN’S A BALLOsON!

BENJAMIN’S A BALLOON!

At home Benjamin’s mother said, “Your teacher called today.  She said you’re always daydreaming and don’t pay attention in class.”

After supper Benjamin’s father said, “What’s this I hear about your daydreaming?  Have you been wasting time again?”

Benjamin was miserable.  “Why can’t I pay attention?  Why am I always daydreaming?  What’s wrong with me?”  Benjamin could just see himself as a big kid, still looking out the window in school–and he looked like a balloon!  Instead of ordinary legs, his legs were joined together like the bottom of a balloon and were tied to a string on his desk.  He started to float off his chair. The window was open and the wind blew him back and forth on the string.  The string got longer and longer.  And suddenly the string came loose and he blew out the window and up and up–

“Benjamin…Benjamin,” said a soft voice. “Are you all right?”

It was his grandfather.

“Oh, grampa.  Oh, grampa, what am I going to do?  What’s wrong with me?  I don’t pay attention in class.  I daydream all the time.  The kids make fun of me.  Everybody’s mad at me.”

“Hmm,” said grandfather.  “You daydream, do you?”

“Yes, grampa.”

“You daydream a lot, do you?”

“Yes, grampa.”

“Do you daydream well, Benjamin?”

“Well, grampa?”

“Yes, Benjamin.  Do you do a good job of it?”

“Gee, I don’t know, grampa.  I just daydream.”

“Do you know what daydreaming is, Benjamin?”

“I think so, grampa.  It’s when I see pictures and stories in my head.”

“That’s right, Benjamin, daydreaming is seeing inside your head.  It’s a special kind of seeing, and I want you to do it well.  I want you to be able to see with the eyes that are inside your head just as well as you see with the eyes that are on the outside of your head.”

“How do I learn to do that, grampa?”

“You learn by practicing!  Just the way you learn to read or to play ball or to swim.  You practice.”

“How do I practice daydreaming, grampa?”

“You’re already doing it one way, Benjamin. You do it every night when your mother or your father tells you a story.  When you hear that story and imagine what’s happening in that story, you’re practicing your daydreaming.  And when you listen to a story in church or at school, you’re practicing your daydreaming.  It’s good for you. You need lots of good stories to practice with and learn from.”

“Is that all, grampa?”

“No, Benjamin.  But that’s a beginning. There are many things you need to learn about daydreaming.  The most important one is how to pray your daydreams.”

“How do I do that, grampa?”

“Remember when you prayed to Jesus to send you a protector and discerner, and he sent you Uriel the 23^rd?”

“Oh yes, grampa.  I remember that!  And Uriel the 23^rd protected me from the GRMPF and helped me discern whether the GRMPF was an outcast or an enemy, and I hugged the GRMPF, and the GRMPF turned out to be my new friend, Benoni!  Oh yes, grampa, I remember!”

“That’s a way of doing it, Benjamin.  You just start to talk to God and ask him for help, and he’ll help you with your daydream.”

“It sure was a lot of fun, grampa, even if it was kind of scary.  I like Uriel the 23^rd and Benoni.”

“Good, Benjamin.  Now here’s what I want you to do.  I want you to practice two things: Noticing and Praying.  First, you should start trying to notice when you’re daydreaming, and then during the daydream you should start asking God to help you with it.  Can you do that?”

“I’ll try, grampa.”

And so Benjamin went into training.  He began to practice Noticing and Praying, which led to many adventures, which someday I should tell you.

At the end of the last story Benjamin did a discernment and decided the GRMPF was an outcast and not an enemy. So under the protection of Uriel the 23rd he hugged the GRMPF.

[Do you remember what happened next?]

Suddenly, instead of the GRMPF Benjamin found himself gazing at a boy his own age who looked a lot like him!

At first everybody stood in shocked silence. Then everybody talked at once.

“Where’d you come from?”— “Who’re you?” — “Who’re you?” — “Where am I?” — “Thanks be to God!” — “Thank you! Thank you!”

After a while everybody calmed down. Then Uriel the 23rd made formal introductions and everybody shook hands.

“I am Uriel the 23rd. I am a Protector and Discerner sent by Jesus. This is Benjamin.”

“My name is Benoni,” said the boy, “and I am very grateful to you both for rescuing me.”

“Benoni,” said Benjamin. “That’s a …” He was going to say, “That’s a peculiar name,” but then he remembered his manners and said, “That’s an interesting name.”

“Yes, it’s not a very common name, is it?” said Benoni.

“Yes,” said Uriel the 23rd.

“What happened to you?” asked Benjamin. “Did the GRMPF eat you?”

“No, the GRMPF didn’t eat me,” said Benoni.

“I am the GRMPF.”

“You are the GRMPF!” exclaimed Benjamin. “But that’s impossible! Boys aren’t GRMPFs.”

“Yes, Benjamin, boys are GRMPFs. I had a GRMPF in me, and I turned into that GRMPF. And you have a GRMPF in you too.”

“I do not!” said Benjamin. “Not me!”

But even as he said it, Benjamin knew he was wrong. He could just imagine what it was like to be a GRMPF. In fact, he thought, maybe it would be fun. He’d like to scare Billy! He’d like to growl at Billy and threaten to eat him up and chase him and chase him until he screamed and screamed and screamed. Wow! That’d be fun!

Just then he noticed that Uriel the 23rd was looking at him in an odd way.

“Well, maybe there’s a little GRMPF in me,” he said. “But how did it happen? How did you turn into a GRMPF?”

“I don’t understand it very well,” said Benoni. “I just want it never to happen again!”

“I know how it happened, Benoni,” said Uriel the 23rd. “Would you like me to tell the story?”

“Yes,” said Benoni.

“Oh, yes!” said Benjamin.

Here is the story of how Benoni became a GRMPF.

************

In Benoni’s bedroom, said Uriel the 23rd, on the back of his closet door is a full-length mirror.

[There’s one right here in my closet, too, thought Benjamin.]

Do you remember Snow White’s stepmother, the wicked witch? She looked in her mirror to admire herself. But not Benoni. Benoni looked into his mirror to hate himself. Benoni had a secret affliction. He was growing the hair of a beast! Other people couldn’t see the hair, but in that mirror he could.

As far back as he could remember, he had always had some of the hair. The first patch was on the back of his right shoulder, and he didn’t know that other people couldn’t see it until one day he asked his mother, “Why do I have hair on my shoulder?”

“Where, dear?” she said.

“Right here,” said Benoni, and pointed.

“I don’t see any hair,” said his mother.

“Oh, wait. Yes, I see a hair. You have a mole here, and a hair is growing out of it.”

But Benoni didn’t mean a hair. He meant a thick, dirty, tangled mat of hair. He never mentioned the hair again. But every morning he looked with dread in the mirror. Little by little, as he grew older, the patches of beast’s hair spread. At first they sprouted here and there on his back. Then some grew on his arms and legs.

“I deserve it,” thought Benoni. “I do so many bad things, and there’s so much wrong with me.”

A lot of people told Benoni there was something wrong with him.

“Why are you always so clumsy!” said his father, when Benoni dropped a glass and broke it.

Benoni believed what his father said, and a new patch of beast’s hair grew in the night.

“Why can’t you ever remember anything?” said his mother, when Benoni forgot to tell her what his teacher said.

Benoni believed what his mother said, and a new patch of beast’s hair grew in the night.

“Why don’t you ever pay attention?” said his teacher, when Benoni didn’t hear he because he was daydreaming.

Benoni believed what his teacher said, and a new patch of beast’s hair grew in the night.

“I don’t want you on my team,” said Billy, when the boys were choosing sides for a ball game. “You’re no good.”

Benoni believed what Billy said, and he believed more besides. Benoni believed all the boys thought he was no good, and a new, large patch of beast’s hair grew in the night.

Whenever Benoni saw a new patch of beast’s hair, he said to himself, “See, they’re right. There’s something wrong with me.”

One day Benoni’s mother kissed him and hugged him and said she loved him, and Benoni’s father said how smart he was, and even Billy said something nice. And that night grandfather told him a story and said how much fun he was. Benoni felt good.

[What do you suppose he saw when he looked in the mirror the next morning?]

The next morning a lot of beast’s hair was gone!

“How wonderful!” said Benoni to himself. “How did that happen?”

He looked and looked, and sure enough he didn’t have nearly as much beast’s hair as the day before! But then he thought, “It won’t last. There’s something wrong with me, and the hair will come back.” And right before his eyes he could actually see beast’s hair growing!

[What do you think — did Benoni really see beast’s hair growing? Or did he imagine it?]

I’ll tell you what I think. I think Benoni imagined it, and it was real. I think his imagination saw something real that you can’t see any other way. I think beast’s hair was really growing on him, but that the only way to see it was with Benoni’s inner eyes. I think the reason grownups could say such bad things to Benoni and couldn’t see the patches of beast’s hair growing is that the grownups had no imagination. Many grownups forget how to use their imagination. Benoni could see what was happening to him because he still had his imagination. That’s what I think!

But one day other people did see the hair! That was the day Benoni stopped hiding his secret and began to act like a beast.

“I’m no good,” he thought. “This is what I’m like.”

So he broke Billy’s toy truck, and he dropped daddy’s glass, and he lied to mother, and he hit the girl next to him in school. Everybody could see the beast’s hair now!

“Oh, what an ugly boy!” they said.

“I don’t want you to play with him any more,” said Billy’s mother to Billy.

Benoni’s mother and father punished him.

“Go to your room!” they said. “And don’t come out until you’re ready to apologize.”

But Benoni wouldn’t apologize. “I’m bad,” he thought, “and ugly, and dirty, and people don’t want anything to do with me. What use would it be to say I’m sorry, even if I am?”

Now the hair covered all of Benoni’s body. His face and his hands were matted with dirty beast’s hair. Benoni hated himself, and everybody shunned him.

And that is how Benoni became a GRMPF.

***********

There was a silence when Uriel the 23rd finished speaking.

Then Benjamin murmured, “Oh, how awful!”

“It was awful,” said Benoni. “I hated being a GRMPF, but I thought that was all I could be, and I was angry. I wanted to hurt people. So I growled, and I chased children until they screamed. That’s what my life was like until you came along, Benjamin, under the protection of Uriel the 23rd and hugged me.”

“It was the protection of God, Benoni,” said Uriel the 23rd. “I’m just his messenger.”

So Benjamin and Benoni and Uriel the 23rd talked and talked. As a matter of fact they got to be very good friends and had many adventures together. Maybe some day I’ll tell you another story about them.

Warner White

“No more of this nonsense!” said Benjamin’s mother. “To bed with you right now!”

“But, Mama,” said Benjamin. “The monster…”

“I’ve already told you, Benjamin. There is no monster. You were only dreaming. Now go to bed.”

“Please, Mama, please. Let me stay up a little longer. Please. Please.”

“No, Benjamin. It’s time you learned the difference between dreams and real life. You go to bed — and right now! I’m not going to tolerate any more of your foolishness.”

Benjamin knew his mother wasn’t going to change her mind, so he shuffled to the stairs, dragged his feet slowly up the steps, and got ready for bed. His mother kissed him good night, gave him a hug, and said No when he asked for a story.

“You don’t need a story tonight. You need to go to sleep and get over this monster foolishness.”

When his mother left, Benjamin thought and thought. “What shall I do? What shall I do? If I go to sleep the monster will get me.”

[What do you suppose Benjamin decided to do?]

“If I don’t go to sleep, the monster won’t be able to get me,” Benjamin thought. So he got out of bed, sat in his chair, held his floppy bear tight, and looked around him. There was the bookshelf. There was his toy truck, and there were his fire engine and his airplanes. Benjamin held the bear tighter.

“I must not fall asleep,” he said to himself.

And there were his curtains, and there was the bed, and there was the closet door.

“I must not fall asleep,” he said to himself. And there were his shoes, and there was his chest of drawers, and there was the closet door.

“I’ll just take a look and see what’s in the closet,” he said to himself. “It looks different from the last time I went in there.”

He opened the closet door.

[And what do you suppose he saw?]

Benjamin saw a tv screen. On it was a message: “ONE MOMENT, PLEASE.”

After a while the screen went blank. Wavy lines appeared. The screen went blank again, and another message appeared: “THIS WAY, PLEASE.”

And there was a big red arrow pointing down.

“Down?” said Benjamin. “How can I go down?”

The screen went blank, the wavy lines appeared, and there was another message: “TAKE THE ELEVATOR, NITWIT.”

Benjamin noticed an elevator at the back of the closet.

“I never saw that before,” he thought to himself.

“YOU NEVER LOOKED WITH YOUR INNER EYES BEFORE, LAMEBRAIN,” said the screen.

Benjamin went to the elevator door and pushed the button. There was a hard clanking noise, something grated, and suddenly the floor shook and heaved so hard he reached out for the wall to keep his balance. His hand went right through, and he was falling, falling, falling — but slowly. As he fell he could see the elevator coming up, and in it were two glowing eyes and a large set of yellow teeth.

“Growl! GROOOUUUUWWWWLLLL!” went the teeth.

“GROOOUUUUWWWWLLLL! What are you doing over there? Can’t you wait for an elevator?” said the teeth.

“Please, sir,” said Benjamin. “I’m falling. Can’t you stop me from falling, sir?”

“Falling? What are you doing that for, you twerp? Why don’t you take the elevator like other people?”

“Please, sir,” said Benjamin. “I fell through the wall.”

“You better think up a better story than that, you sniveling kid. That’s the same story the other kid used last week before I went GRMPF, GRMPF, and ate him up.”

Benjamin didn’t know what to do or say. He had too many things at once to be frightened of. He was falling and might crash to the floor or bottom or whatever it was at any moment. He was frightened by the two eyes and the yellow teeth. He was frightened at the growling. And especially he was frightened of being eaten up.

“Please, sir. Please, sir,” he stammered.

“Oh, all right. You kids are all alike. Helpless. Whimpering. Can’t do anything for yourself. Always wanting me to do things for you. Why aren’t you brought up right? Why do I always have to help you? Let me see. How do you get this elevator to turn around? Where’s the steering wheel? There must be one somewhere.”

Benjamin and the elevator were getting farther and farther apart. In the distance he could hear the yellow teeth above him muttering.

“What are all these buttons for? Why can’t anybody make anything right any more?”

And then the elevator began to turn in a large circle, and pretty soon it was moving crossways above Benjamin, and then it started to move down, and then it went faster and faster until it was below Benjamin, and then BANG! BAM! and the voice of the yellow teeth cried out, “GOOOOM! GOOOOM! Ouch!”

Benjamin turned over as he floated down and looked below him. He saw the elevator on its side and something large and black next to it. Down and down he floated until finally he came to rest with a bump — right on top of the large black thing!

“GROOOUUUUWWWWLLLL! GROOOUUUUWWWWLLLL!” said the large black thing. “Who gave me that poke?” and the large black thing turned over, causing Benjamin to slide to the floor like sliding on a horsehair blanket. Two large black eyes and two rows of yellow teeth appeared in the midst of the black furry lump of a thing.

“Please, sir. Please, sir,” said Benjamin. “It was just me. I landed on top of you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Hurt me! Hurt me! Who said anything about hurting! You couldn’t hurt me if you used the powers of the witch of Endor. You couldn’t hurt me with all the armies of Assyria and Babylonia. You couldn’t hurt me — ”

“ — Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I couldn’t hurt you. I’m much too small, and even great big people — lots of them — couldn’t hurt you.”

“You betcha, kid. You betcha. Now what was it you wanted? You wanted me to do something for you before I eat you up. Now what was it?”

“Please, sir. Please, sir. Don’t eat me up. I’m just a little boy. There isn’t very much of me, and besides I’m skinny and stringy and I’m sure I wouldn’t taste very good.”

“Don’t interrupt me, babbler. What was it I was supposed to do?”

“You were going to help me stop falling.”

“Oh, well, yes. Stop falling. Well now, we don’t have to worry about that any more, do we? Just be sure not to do it again, do you hear?”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I won’t fall again, if I can help it.”

“If you can help it! Hah! That’s just like you weaklings, you can’t help anything. You’re always falling and always whining and always needing help. I never need help. Why can’t you be strong like me? … Now come over here. It’s time for me to go GRMPF GRMPF.”

Benjamin had a feeling he knew what GRMPF GRMPF meant, but he asked anyhow. “’GRMPF GRMPF’? What does that mean?”

“Aha! Aha!” said the black thing. “You’re not only weak and helpless and can’t keep from falling: you’re a dumbunny too! A GRMPF is what I am, and GRMPFing is what I do. I’m a GRMPF and I GRMPF.”

“But what is GRMPFing?” said Benjamin.

The yellow teeth widened and turned upward. The GRMPF tilted the top of its lump of a body to one side, and a coo slithered from deep inside, “Come here sweet thing. Come here lovely child. And I’ll show you!”

Benjamin felt the hairs on his head rise. Sweat spurted out of all the pores of his body. He whirled around and ran. And ran. And ran. He heard a loud bump, and then a rumble. The surface beneath his feet shook. He ran faster and faster. The rumble came closer and closer until he could hear heavy panting. And then he could feel hot breath on the back of his neck. From far away he heard a scream, and he screamed and screamed —

“Benjamin! Benjamin!” said his father, as his father reached over and enfolded him in his arms. “Benjamin, what’s wrong? Why were you screaming?”

“The GRMPF! The GRMPF was after me.”

“You mean that monster you’ve been telling your mother about?”

“Yes, daddy. He’s a GRMPF and he’s going to eat me up.”

His father held Benjamin closer, stroked Benjamin’s cheek and hair, gave him a hug and a kiss, and said, “Well, we have a problem, don’t we? You’ve got an imaginary monster after you, and we don’t know what to do about it. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you lie down in bed. We’ll leave the light on, and I’ll stay right here until you’re asleep and even after you’re asleep. I’ll stay here until I’m sure you’re asleep without any monsters, and I won’t go back to bed until then. And when I do go, I’ll leave the door open so I can be here right away if you need me.”

Benjamin slept peacefully that night.

In the morning Benjamin overheard his parents talking. “What are we going to do?” they said. “What are we going to do?”

“Perhaps we should ask your father to talk with Benjamin,” said Benjamin’s mother.

“I know what you have in mind,” said Benjamin’s father. “Father is a loving, gentle soul, but my father has weird ideas. If you want Benjamin to stop believing in monsters, if you want him to tell the difference between dreams and real life, don’t ask my father to handle this problem. He’ll probably solve it all right. But Benjamin will end up believing in dreams and spirits and who knows what else.”

“But we’ve got to do something!” said Benjamin’s mother.

So Benjamin and his grandfather had a talk. Benjamin told his grandfather all about the GRMPF.

“A GRMPF is it? A GRMPF. I don’t know that kind of monster. You say it was a big black lump with two eyes and two rows of yellow teeth? That’s not much to go on. Sounds like your standard frighten-little-helpless-children type monster, but you never can be sure without an examination. Now I’ll tell you what you should do, Benjamin. Do you know how to pray?”

Benjamin knew the Lord’s Prayer and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.

“Ok,” said grandfather. “You need two things. You need protection from the monster. You need someone on your side who is bigger and stronger than the monster, someone right beside you the monster will be afraid of. And you need a discerner. Do you know what a discerner is, Benjamin?”

“No, grampa. I never heard of a dis … dis …”

“Discerner, Benjamin. Discerner. A discerner is a discerner of spirits, someone who can tell spirits apart. We need to know what kind of monster this is. Is it an outcast or is it an enemy? — and when we know that, we’ll know what to do.”

“What’s an outcast, grampa, and an enemy?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated, Benjamin, but I’ll tell you the easy part. You don’t need to be afraid of outcasts. They never harm anybody. But an enemy is different. You really need to be afraid of them.

“Now here’s what we’ll do. Tonight, just before you go to bed you kneel down and pray to Jesus. Ask him to send you someone to protect you and to do a discernment. ‘Lord, Jesus,’ you should say, ‘please send me a protector and discerner.’ Can you say that, Benjamin?”

Benjamin practiced the prayer until he got it right.

“And I’ll pray for you too, Benjamin. I’ll ask the Lord to send you a protector and discerner.”

“Will it work, grampa. Will it work?” asked Benjamin.

“Yes, Benjamin. It will work. When you ask the Lord for protection and discernment, he’ll give it to you. I wish I were going with you. It should be a lot of fun.”

That night Benjamin prayed as he and grandfather had planned. He was not afraid—maybe just a little tense, and very excited — but not afraid to speak of. But he couldn’t sleep. So he sat in the chair once again, with his floppy bear, and he looked at the things in his room, and after a while he went to the closet door.

[And what do you suppose he saw when he opened the door?]

When Benjamin opened the door, he saw a tall skinny young man with a big nose and a big Adam’s apple and long arms and long lumpy hands.

“Who are you?” asked Benjamin.

“I’m Uriel the 23rd, specialist P2D3. Did you get that? P2D3!”

“What’s P2D3?” said Benjamin.

“Protector second-class, Discerner third-class. I’ve just been promoted. In fact I was promoted early. Usually, with your ordinary angel or archangel the boss makes you wait at least three thousand years before promotion to second-class Protector. But I made it in only two thousand. Discerning takes longer. It’s harder than Protection. So I probably won’t make second-class Discernment for another five thousand years.”

“Oh,” said Benjamin. (He didn’t know what else to say, but felt he should say something. Then he realized he didn’t remember the person’s — or was it angel’s — name.)

“Please, sir. What’s your name again?”

“Don’t be afraid of me, Benjamin. I’m your Protector. You don’t need to be afraid of your Protector. Come over here. I want to give you a hug.”

Benjamin had never been hugged like that before. Not even by his mother or father. The hug was vast. It was deep. It was warm. It was like sinking deep into a pile of soft quilts—only it was softer and vaster and even more assuring.

“But you mustn’t fall asleep, Benjamin. We have work to do. My name is Uriel the 23rd. That means that my great ancestor was Uriel, one of the four archangels of God, and I’m the 23rd Uriel in his line. We Uriels help people make journeys. Up until now I’ve always gone along as a helper and learner with Uriel the 22nd, but I did so well on our last trip that I was promoted and given this solo.”

Uriel the 23rd looked around, saw the elevator at the back of the closet, and said, “Are you ready? Shall we take the elevator?”

Benjamin shuddered, moved closer to Uriel the 23rd and said in a small voice, “Yes. I’m ready. Let’s go!”

Uriel the 23rd pressed the button.

[And what do you suppose happened next?]

There was a hard clanking noise, something grated, and suddenly the floor shook and heaved so hard Benjamin reached out for the wall to keep his balance.

His hand met another hand! Uriel the 23rd had put his hand between Benjamin’s hand and the wall!

“The old insubstantial-wall trick. Humph! This must be a monster fifth rate. Now we’ll probably have to wait a long time for the elevator. These monsters fifth rate never know how to keep their materiel in proper repair.”

Uriel the 23rd was right. They sat down and waited and waited and waited. Finally they could hear the elevator was almost at the door. Uriel the 23rd stood and faced the door. He seemed taller than before and he glowed and he filled the closet with light.

The elevator door opened.

There was a long silence.

“Please, sir,” said a small voice. (But I’m not talking, thought Benjamin.) “Please, sir. May I go?”

“No, you may not,” said Uriel the 23rd. “Benjamin, come stand beside me. Do you see this big black thing? Now what do you think? Which kind of spirit is this? Is this an outcast or is it an enemy?”

“But how do I tell, Uriel the 23rd? How do you tell them apart?”

“Have you made a bargain with this monster? Has he offered you anything or promised you anything in return for something from you?”

“No. He’s just threatened to eat me up. I’ve never made a bargain with him or any promises.”

“Good. Then it won’t be hard for you to tell what kind of monster he is. Once you make bargains or promises it’s more difficult.”

“Why is that, Uriel the 23rd?”

“All monsters want something from you. That’s what makes them monsters. But they want different things. Enemies want one sort of thing and outcasts want another. Enemies want you to become like them. Enemies want to be the way they are. But outcasts want to be different. Outcasts don’t want to be the way they are. Outcasts keep hoping that if they eat you or touch you or control you, you will change them.

“Now, Benjamin, which kind of monster is this? Does this monster want something from you that will help him be different? Or is this monster trying to make you be like him?”

“I think,” said Benjamin. “I think…”

[What do you think Benjamin decided? What kind of monster was it? Was it an enemy or was it an outcast?]

“I think,” said Benjamin, “it’s an outcast.”

“I think so too,” said Uriel the 23rd. “Now I have something for you to do. To cure outcasts you must touch them with love. Hugs are best of all. Can you hug this monster? Are you brave enough?”

Benjamin shivered. “But he’s too big. I can’t get my arms around him.”

“Just try it.”

Benjamin took a deep breath. He straightened his back. He marched into the elevator. He went up to the GRMPF, put out his arms, and touched him. His arms went around and around, and his hands joined together on the other side, and he felt like a big cloud, a soft and warm and floating cloud that held a large and quivering boy. The GRMPF quivered and quivered until suddenly Benjamin knew the GRMPF was crying.

After a while the GRMPF relaxed and eased out of Benjamin’s arms. He seemed smaller now, and less furry. Benjamin looked up and there stood a boy — just like himself!

There is lots more I could tell you about the other boy, but that’s another story. I’ll just stop this story here.

Benjamin and Uriel the 23rd saved a GRMPF. They rescued a boy from feeling outcast and unloved and monstrous.

Warner White