THE LITTLE JUGGLER

Once upon a time there was a little juggler who walked from village to village plying his trade. He never made much money, but every so often some kind soul gave him a new tunic to replace his ragged one, or a good cloak to ward off rain and snow and serve as blanket on those nights when there was no other shelter from the frost. The little juggler could not speak or hear, and so he communicated ideas and experience through inspired juggling. He had no big ambitions. He was a simple soul, satisfied with kindness shared along the way. He was able to think healing thoughts for those who were unkind, and to somehow turn all his experience into the stories told through his art.

During the coldest part of one winter the little juggler was invited to stay with a farming family, and to share hearth and table with them in exchange for help around the house and barn, and to bring a little more laughter into the hearts of the family with his juggling from time to time.

Soon, however, the tides of the times turned, and before they knew what was happening, a war was upon them. Soldiers came and stole their animals - the horses were harnessed to caissons and cannons; the cows and sheep, chickens and pigs were slaughtered to feed the army. The parents successfully hid the children, putting the little juggler in charge, to save them from rape or from being stolen away to serve the soldiers on their marches; but the mother, not so fortunate, was carted away as a most miserable prize. The father died defending his wife.

The little juggler then had three young children to find safe haven for. He waited until nightfall, then he and the children put on wool cloaks to keep themselves warm along the way, and took what they could carry to eat, and left the home place, knowing that bands of marauding soldiers would violate the farm over and over until the tides of the times turned once again. Over the years the little juggler taught the children to juggle, and to survive in all conditions; and they became united as a family and as a troupe of artists.

One child had a special gift for singing ballads; another had a gift for acrobatics, and the third had an amazing flair for magic and wonders. The troupe gained fame and fortune, and the little juggler was carried along with them for a time. They began to be invited to perform for the wealthy and for royalty, to stay in great houses and castles; and they were given silks and satins and furs and jewels and gold.

The little juggler thought and juggled and thought  and juggled, and realized he could go on his way alone. He chose a moment when the earth was in full bloom all around them, a moment of the greatest wealth and heart, a heaven-day overflowing with things of nature to be grateful for, and he found a way to let his gifted young people know that it was time for him to move along. He juggled for them, in such a way that they each fell into a reverie and understood the words he could never speak aloud; they heard his words in their hearts.

He told them each to love themselves until self-love overflowed into a fountain of love for all humanity, and all beings, and the planet; and to make this self-love their most important preparation for each performance.

He told them to help each other always, and to teach love to each person, group, and place they visited; to show respect for elders, to give gratitude to nature, and to always leave a place better in heart than they had first found it.

He told them that language is fine, words are wonderful; but true love has no words. He told them always to find the center of true love, and to act from there; that whether their performances were paid in bags of gold or clods of mud, still they would be passing on true love. In the end, he told them, true love is all that matters.

When the young people came out of their reverie, their beloved juggler was gone without a trace. The troupe stayed together for a while longer, but soon each member found his or her path of destiny, and they all began new lives according to their inner leadings.

At certain times in the lives of these siblings, the teachings of the little juggler would come back to them. They passed the teachings along to their own children and their children's children, and their audiences; and along with the teachings they passed stories about the little juggler.

The little juggler was never seen again on this earth; although those who see inside the insides of things might tell you that he took the form of an apple tree by the road which passed by an old abandoned farmhouse; and that children used to come by and pick the apples and attempt to juggle them; and that one little girl became very good at apple juggling; and that as she grew she felt called to walk the earth as a juggler; and that, although she could speak perfectly well, she took a vow of silence and let her juggling do the talking. That's what some people say.

Carolion's articles on puppetry may be found here: On With The Show