Christmas Story - The Urn of Fate, Janet Lane Walters YA #BooksWeLove #MFRWauthor #shortstory

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The Urn of Fate

Pedro tossed a stone down the hill and sighed. He felt a tugging at his woolen scarf and turned to stroke Blanca, his pet merino sheep.

“Si, Blanca, soon it will be time to go down but I must think now. Jaime’s coming for a few days. Can you imagine, he’s to be my special friend until next Christmas?”

Pedro put his arm around Blanca and she settled beside him. Christmas hadn’t been good this year. Pedro frowned as he remembered how excited he’d been when his grandmother, Abuela, had picked up the Urn of Fate and started to draw names. Pedro had held his breath.

Last year, Tio Carlos had been his special friend. Tio Carlos had given him Blanca and had taught him many things about being a shepherd.

This year, Abuela had drawn Jaime’s name to be Pedro’s special friend. Pedro wondered what Jaime would give him. Jaime always had his nose in a book.

Pedro had been so disappointed he had run from the room, saying he had to feed Blanca and the chickens. His eyes had burned with tears. Abuela had planned the whole thing but it wouldn’t work. He and Jamie could never be special friends.

“Pedro, Pedro, come quickly,” his mother called.

Pedro rose slowly and untied Blanca’s rope. “We must go, little one.” He and Blanca made their way cautiously down the hill. Blanca was going to lamb soon and Pedro took special care of her. She was his future. Someday, he would have the largest flock of sheep in Spain.

“Pedro, I want you to take some eggs to Abuela.”

“Si, Mamacita,” said Pedro. “First, I must put Blanca in her pen.”

“Let Jaime do that while you gather the eggs.”

Pedro hadn’t noticed Jaime standing in the doorway. “Hello, Jaime,” he said. “I’ll get the eggs and you put Blanca in her pen. Be sure the door is shut.”

“May I pet her?” asked Jaime.

“Sure.”

As the boys started down the hill to their grandmother’s, Jaime said. “Blanca is a merino. I read they produce fine wool.”

Pedro grinned. Maybe Jaime wouldn’t be so bad after all.

When they reached their grandmother’s house, Pedro carried the eggs in. Jaime followed him.

“Good day, Abuela,” said Jaime.

Abuela took the eggs. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad Jaime could visit you. It will do you good to be outdoors more, Jaime.”

“Si Abuela,” Jaime said.

“And you, Pedro, Jaime can interest you in books. The schoolmaster has been talking to me.”

“I don’t need books. I’m going to be a shepherd.”

“Some knowledge might help.”

“Si, Abuela,” said Pedro. “Come, Jaime, Mamacita will have supper ready.”

The sky was growing dark and the wind had begun to blow.

“Hurry, Jaime,” said Pedro. “It’s going to snow and Tio Carlos said Blanca might have her lamb any time. I want to be with her.”

“Can you only think of that smelly sheep,” said Jaime. “Tio Carlos always smells like sheep.”

“So will I. I’m going to be a shepherd.”

“And I’m going to be a school teacher.”

When they reached home, Jaime went to the house but Pedro headed for Blanca’s pen. A few minutes alter, he burst into the house. “Blanca’s gone! It’s all your fault, Jaime. The door wasn’t closed tight.” He ran out.

“Pedro, wait for me,” called Jaime. “I’ll help you.” He pulled on his coat and tried to tuck the loose ends of his scarf in as he ran after Jaime. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it right.”

“I should have done it myself,” said Pedro. “Blanca, Blanca!” He tried to follow the tracks Blanca had left.

The wind began to blow and snow swirled through the air. Finally, Pedro stopped and slumped to the ground.

“It’s no use. The wind has hidden her tracks.”

“Pedro,” called Jaime. “Here’s a bit of wool on this bush. We must search like the American Indians do. I studied them in English class. We’ll find her.”

Pedro stumbled after Jaime. Each time Jaime found a new sign of Blanca’s travels, Pedro was amazed. The storm was so thick he could hardly see Jaime.

“I must rest,” Jaime said.

“But look, there’s a big lump in front of those bushes over there.”

Pedro ran forward. “We’ve found her. Oh, Blanca, why did you run away?”

He knelt beside Blanca on the ground.  His eyes widened when he saw the two lambs nestled against her. “Jaime, come quickly. Blanca has two lambs. We must get them home.”

“Pedro,” Jaime screamed.

Pedro turned and saw Jaime lying on the ground. He ran over.

“I tripped on a tree root,” said Jaime. “My ankle hurts. I can’t stand. Now we’ll never get Blanca and her two lambs home.”

“You found Blanca and I will get us home,” said Pedro.

Pedro found some stout branches and put one on either side of Jaime’s injured leg. He tied them with his and Jaime’s scarves. Then he carried Blanca and the lambs to Jaime.

“Put the lambs in your coat to keep them warm while I try to make some kind of sled with some of these pine branches. I’m glad you didn’t take Blanca’s rope off. We can use that.”

After Pedro wove the branches together, he put Jaime and Blanca on the makeshift sled. He tugged on the short rope and started down the hill. The sled bounced over the uneven ground and Pedro thought it might fall apart before they got far. He hoped he could find some shelter for Jaime and Blanca so he could continue home for help.

“Pedro,” said Jaime. “Sheep are soft. Can we be friends?”

“Didn’t the Urn of Fate choose us?” said Pedro. “Maybe you can find me some books about sheep.”

“Pedro, look. There are some lights moving up the hill.”

Pedro looked up. Mamacita must have called men from the village to look for us. We’re almost home, my Blanca, my two lambs and my special friend. Here we are,” he shouted.

The End