It took all the effort Little Grass had, but he finally did it. The dirt that had surrounded him since birth no longer held him. He pushed through to the sunlight. Now he could grow tall. He could wave in the breeze with the other grasses and be drenched by the spring rains. He could feel the warmth of the sun’s rays cover him and stretch towards the sky. He grew and grew and grew. Life was great.
Then one day men came swinging large sharp things. Ouch! They whacked him off at the roots and bundled him up with the other grasses next to him.
“What is to happen to us?”
Another stalk of grass stacked under him sighed. “I have heard stories. This is the end, my friend. No more water will seep up into our veins because we have no roots. They will dry us out. We will become yellow and brittle.”
“No,” Little Grass trembled. “There has to be more. We must have a purpose.”
Another grass laying next to them laughed, but it was not a happy laugh. It sounded harsh and sad. “Our purpose is to be consumed. Either the animals will eat us so they can grow, our we will be thrown over coals and caught on fire so others can be warm.”
Yet another groaned. “We don’t matter. We’re worthless now. This is the end.”
“I don’t believe you. Any of you.” Little Grass straightened himself as long as he could. “We have more purpose than that. We have to. Why else would we have struggled so hard to push out of the darkness? We have found the sunlight and have bent towards it.”
“Yes, and all for nothing. The sun will now bare down on us and parch us until not a drop of moisture is left in ur veins. We will become yellow and brittle. Dead. Why did we ever push out of the ground?”
Ropes were tied around the grasses and they were lifted high onto the back of animals. Little Grass craned to see where they were going. “I had no idea the world was so big. All I could see was the tops of other grasses. Now I can see trees, and birds and mountains. Oh, this is wonderful.”
The other grasses moaned. “He just doesn’t get it, does he?”
Next, the grasses were spread out onto the dirt. The sun’s heat gleamed down onto them day after day. The little grass could feel all the water in his veins leaving him. He tried to keep it in, but the heat was stronger. He felt drained, thirsty. His stalk became stiff. No breeze flowed over him. He no longer could dance in the wind. “But, at least this is making me stronger, less bendable. Maybe there is a reason. I have to believe that.”
The other grasses sighed. “He’ll learn. The worse is yet to come.”
A few days later, men came and gathered the grasses together again. Up onto back of another animal they went. Little Grass rode on the very top, and he was so happy to be on this adventure, but the other grasses grumbled and whined. They traveled over fields and across a stream of water. At night, the stars shone down on them as their animal carrier and the men rested. One star gleamed so much brighter than all the others.
“Oh, look at that.” Little Grass gasped. “I have never seen such a beautiful sight.”
The next day the bundle of grasses journeyed over a hill and down into a valley. Then, at dusk, the animal carrying the grasses stopped. People shuffled by, their sandals kicking up dirt. There were so many of them, and other animals, too. Where were they all going? A building up ahead had lanterns shining in its windows. They looked sort of like the stars.
“Are we going in there? Into that golden light?”
“No.” One of the other grasses sighed. “We will be in the stable. Soon the animals will eat us and we will die.”
The little piece of grass shook its stalk. “I don’t believe that. Something else will happen to us — something wonderful. We were made for another reason. I just know it.”
Then, a man gathered the grasses and spread them in a manager. “There. In the morning, the animals will have a feast.”
The grasses all whimpered and told each other goodbye. All except the little piece of grass.
In the middle of the night, strange noises woke the grasses. A donkey came in with a man and a woman. She groaned and huffed deep breaths. His voice was soothing and calm. Then, after a while, a third voice sounded—a soft babbling. It came from a very small human.
The woman took off her shawl, wrapped the wiggly baby in it and laid it on top of the Little Grass and the others. Immediately a warm glow spread through them. They became soft again, not stiff and scratchy.
“Oh, “Little Grass began to smile. “He has made us alive again.”
They wrapped their stalks around this child to keep Him warm.
The grasses heard beautiful voices singing from above. Day and night, people came to look at the baby hugged by the grasses. They bowed and worshiped him as his parents stood by smiling.
“Praise be to God He found us this dry stable and these warm, soft grasses in which to lay his son, Jesus.” The man gazed down at the grasses.
The people all echoed him. “Praise be to God for the stable and the grasses.”
A small amount of moisture left deep inside Little Grass formed into a drop, like a tear of joy.
“See, I knew we had a special purpose.”
The other grasses glowed with happiness and cuddled themselves around this child of God and worshipped Him the only way they could — just by being there for His use.
For Scripture says… I raised you up for this very purpose, that I might display my power in you and that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth. Romans 9:17
May the Lord bless you this Christmas and reveal His purpose for you in the upcoming year.
Julie B Cosgrove