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Seuraavana jouluna tarinointi laajeni - vai pitäisikö sanoa supistui ruohonjuuritasolle. Nyt pääosaan pääsi Maukka Muurahainen.
Joulukuusen koristelu oli ruuhkavuosina aina kinastelun ja kriisin aihe. Liekö tästä syystä tapahtuma saanut ison roolin myös tämän vuoden joulukalenterissa.
Edellisten vuosien tapaan kuitenkin - nuorissa on tulevaisuus!
1
| All summer long the ants had worked with diligence and care, to build a sturdy winter nest, a home for all to share. Andy the Ant, like all the rest, brought twigs and grains of sand, helped shoulder every task and chore, lent eager heart and hand. At last it’s time to celebrate, the roof-raising is done, then into cozy chambers move—each little, bustling one. |
2
| Andy's mother sweeps their den to make the floorways neat, his father plugs the holes with moss to keep in winter heat. All other ants prepare as well—who’ll be the quickest one to finish all the tasks this year before the cold’s begun? Only one last thing is missing from the anthill’s outer door: the nameplate, while green summer shades turn autumn-gold once more. |
3
| The bustle isn’t over yet—more food must still be found. (For even ants don’t toil all day without a goal profound!) They gather autumn’s harvest: tasty seeds and cones of pine, oat grains too—such lovely treats for winter rest divine. Andy stuffs his belly full to sleep the winter through, for ants can’t chatter winter long the way the songbirds do. |
4
| Now full and warm, with drowsy eyes, they start to settle in, a downy bed of lichen soft is fluffed for every kin. From needles, moss, and forest fluff a cozy nest is made, in which to spend the winter months in peaceful, sheltered shade. Andy's mother teaches him with gentle, loving sway: “Now it’s time to sleep, my child—put all your games away.” |
5
| The last of autumn’s leaves have dropped from every forest tree, the migrating birds have flown to warmer lands across the sea. Snow begins to fall so softly, drifting feather-light, wrapping up the winter home in blankets pure and white. And any passerby who pauses, charmed by the scene below, may hear from ‘neath the snowdrift soft a tiny, sleepy snore. |
6
| But Andy lies there wide awake, awaiting dreams in vain: if only once he’d see real snow on hill and field and plain! Is snow warm like a pillow, soft like cotton filled with fluff, or cold as ice, or salty, sweet—could snow be yummy stuff? He’s heard so many stories told of winter frost and fun— for forest creatures everywhere, the winter’s nothing new. |
7
| He tries and tries to fall asleep—no slumber comes at all, for Andy can’t let such a chance slip by beyond recall. On tiptoes now he sneaks around, he must not nudge a soul, his mother nor his father mustn’t wake within the hole. Excited for his very first peek at winter’s might, he opens up the outside door—the wind blows cold and bright. |
8
| The taste of snow still tempts him so; he grabs a snowy bite, a handful lifted to his mouth—he chews with pure delight. But disappointment fills his face—it tastes not sweet at all! He shivers quickly, runs inside to fetch his woolen shawl. Yet Andy will not quit his quest—adventure must go on, as long as he just puts enough warm winter clothing on. |
9
| A hat, some mittens, scarf and boots now clothe him head to toe; his secret nighttime journey stays unnoticed down below. He shuts the door behind him and steps into world anew: so silent, soft, and shimmering, in every shade of blue. His little boots make tiny tracks while joy begins to bloom, and eager Andy hurries toward adventures in the gloom. |
10
From far away come voices bright, loud laughter, chatter, cheer— |
11
| A Christmas tree? And Christmas gifts? What could these wonders be? There’s more to winter, seems to Andy, than only snow to see! He listens to the children talk, their voices soft and clear, reciting all the Christmas tasks that fill this time of year: “We decorate with baubles bright, with ribbons, candles’ glow— they gently light the darkest nights of deep midwinter snow.” |
12
| And more he hears of Christmas joys, that wondrous festive day— it seems that winter sleep might take a bit of joy away! No tree, no feast, no gifts at all for ants inside their mound… He knows he needs a change to make this dullness turn around! So Andy hatches out a plan that’s certain to delight: he’ll host the first-ever ant hill Christmas feast tonight! |
13
| He doesn’t waste a moment—Andy's action is the key. A sprig of fir he drags with might to stand beside the entry. Then wonders what to give his friends for gifts they’ll cherish well, he rummages through storage rooms and wraps what he can tell. A tiny acorn cap for Mom, a nut for sister too, a pinecone for his brother, Dad gets quill of deepest blue. |
14
| All Christmas treats are waiting in their food reserve below, he picks the best and sets them out in tidy, festive row. The fir bough stands in middle hall, the banquet’s centerpiece, and blueberries and lingonberries decorate with ease. A match he’s found to light the flame that warms the candle’s gleam, soft golden shines complete the hall with gentle winter dream. |
15
| He steps back just to marvel at the beauty he has made; the anthill folk will surely come with pride and no dismay. But oh! The candle warms the tree—too much, far more than planned! The fire creeps along the wall, spreads fast across the land! This isn’t quite the Christmas thrill that Andy meant to bring— a fire alarm mid-winter sleep is not the ideal thing! |
16
| The ants awake to smoke and heat, confusion all around! But order soon returns as one voice rises, firm and sound. A chain of ants brings snow inside; they quench the spreading flare, then look around to find the fool who caused this fiery scare. Dad stares at Andy sternly now—his tone is strict and deep; Andy’s rather wishing he could quietly go back to sleep. |
17
| Poor Andy, blushing, looks around at angry, startled friends— “I only meant to give you all a gift that never ends. I wanted you to know the magic Christmas holds inside— a time of joy and loveliness we all could share with pride.” His father’s stern look softens now, the tension fades away— he knows his son meant good, not harm, on this chaotic day. |
18
| The others smile as well, now that the truth has been revealed— “Surely Andy's splendid plan should not forever yield!” declares the queen, who loves all celebrations big and grand, and issues to her loyal ants a clear and quick command: “Since no one here can sleep again, there’s no more time to stall— come wake the rest from under every cozy blanket wall!” |
19
| Some lucky ants still slumber in their rosy winter dreams— “Wake up and come to help us make a feast with festive themes!” Andy shares instructions for a Christmas warm and sweet; they even find some rice so Mom can make the porridge treat. Someone braids the silvery meadow grass to ribbon fine, and joyful carols echo through the ant hill’s bustling shine. |
20
| And now each ant prepares a gift for someone in the nest: “I’ll pack this one in birch leaf—who will get it? Take your guess!” So many whispers everywhere, small groups behind each wall, yet no one spills the secrets they have planned for one and all. The presents pile beneath the tree, a gathered, gleaming row— they feel in giving early that warm inner Christmas glow. |
21
| The food is fragrant, hall is bright, the festive time draws near, each ant smooths down antennae straight and combs them to appear. The queen emerges proudly in her finest holiday attire: “No creature ever thought of this before our winter fire! At next year’s midsummer, we’ll tell neighbors far and wide about the wondrous Christmas feast we hosted here inside!” |
22
| While others comb and tidy up, young Andy stands in thought: his sleepless winter wanderings the Christmas feast have brought. Though lovely is the banquet hall, one thing still must be right— a Christmas tree should never stand without its candlelight! Then suddenly he has a plan and bolts outside with cheer— what idea now has sparked inside his clever mind this year? |
23
| He digs with haste—he knows the place, remembers summer skies, when glowworms danced across the fields like stars before his eyes. Perhaps their shining antlers—light—could brighten up their tree, illuminate the Christmas hall as gently as can be? “I’m sorry if I woke you up, but please come if you will— to join us in our Christmas feast within our cozy hill.” |
24
| He truly makes the miracle he dreamt of come to be; when glowworms enter into hall, the ants gasp joyfully. The silver ribbons shimmer as the glowing lights appear, and living lanterns twinkle soft upon each wall so near. Though winter winds roar fiercely round their anthill all night long, Andy's heart is warm with Christmas peace and love so strong. |