Maple, The Christmas Tea Mouse

Deep in the forest, down on the earthy floor, on a skirt of moss between the two tallest trees, sits the Village of Maker Mice. Nestled here beneath an arched root, the village has housed Maker Mice for hundreds of years as they help each other make this part of the forest beautiful. Each mouse has a special skill passed down from great-great-great-grandparent mice to wee newborn baby mice, and each one is important. There are Teacher Mice and Farmer Mice, Writer Mice and Thinker Mice, Painter Mice and Builder Mice, Baker Mice and Garden Mice, and many, many other kinds of Maker Mice. 

Maple is a Tea Mouse. She lives on Tea Leaf Lane in a cottage at the end. She likes it because she can see all the other Maker Mice houses from hers. She loves all the Maker Mice. And they love her. 

The one rule by which all Maker Mice faithfully live is stitched on pillows, painted on plaques, and hangs in their homes. They all know it by heart.

Maker Mice must use their gifts 

for helping others first 

and also to accept the gifts 

of others in return.

Painter Mouse helped Maple paint her house a periwinkle blue with sage shutters. Garden Mouse helped her plant chamomile in her front garden. Maple loved how the flowers looked like cloud confetti in the grass. Builder Mouse built her a honey oak cabinet, where she kept her tea cups and saucers that Art Mouse handpainted with acorns and leaves. Seamstress Mouse sewed ginger gingham curtains for her tea room window. And Maple, naturally, made them all tea according to their likes and needs. Maple was so good at making tea, in fact, that she knew her friends’ tastes better than they did. Maple knew when adding a pinch of nutmeg and orange would feel like a hug they didn’t expect but needed more than they knew. Some even whispered that Maple’s tea could wipe the very tears from a mouse’s eye.

Every day, Maple made tea. Sometimes the tea was just for her. Sometimes it was for her neighbors. At the best of times, it was for special occasions—a birthday, wedding, or book club. But the best of best times was Christmas Tea, and the highest honor for a Tea Mouse was to be chosen as its host. 

This Christmas was especially thrilling, for it was Maple’s first as an official Tea Mouse. All the streets were abuzz with festivity, each mouse excited to share their gifts. Maple was no exception.

On the morning of the Christmas Tea announcement, Maple sprang from her bed. “It’s today!” 

She threw on her red velvet robe and made for the cottage front door. She scurried to her teapot mailbox and lifted the lid. She thrust in her hand. “Aha!” 

Her fingers curled around an envelope. She pulled it out. It was emerald green. Her thumb brushed across the ruby wax seal stamped with a Christmas tree. She took a deep breath and opened it. The paper inside was opalescent cream; the calligraphy was handwritten with care.

Maker Mice of the Village, 

Our annual Christmas Tea is next week. This year we are pleased to announce that the Christmas Tea will be hosted by one of our mice who has yet to hold this honor. We are excited to see what gift she bestows upon us all.

This year’s Christmas Tea Mouse is … Maple!

Maple gasped. “Oh yes! It’s me!” Her robe flew up as she jumped. She clutched the announcement to her chest. “I will make the most marvelous Christmas Tea ever!”

Usually, Maple had no problem accepting her friends’ gifts, and seeking them out should have been her first step, but she was so excited about hosting her first Christmas Tea that she plumb forgot. Her head and her heart only thought of all she could do.

She started back inside but stopped, dismayed at the sight of her cottage. Only moments before, she’d seen it as beautiful and cozy. Now, the paint looked chipped, the shutters hung crooked, and the chamomile needed weeding. She went back inside and scoffed at the dingy floors, the saggy pillows, and the dulled silver teapot. To Maple’s eyes, everything was suddenly pale, rusty, clouded, and dusty.

“This simply will not do,” she announced.

She tucked the announcement into her desk drawer and set her mind firmly. She was the Christmas Tea Mouse, after all, so she would make everything perfect herself.

Maple sat with her breakfast tea on her front porch and made her “Christmas Tea To-Do List”:

• Paint the shutters

• Weed the flower beds

• Mop the floor

• Shine the silver

• Clean the china

• Bake the tea cake

• Mend the pillows

• Sew the curtains

• Make the tea

She had one week.

“Plenty of time.” She sipped her last drop and cleaned up her breakfast. 

That day, Maple scurried around the Village buying supplies. 

At the paint store, Painter Mouse said, “Oh, Maple! What wonderful news! You are the Christmas Tea Mouse! Shall I put a fresh coat on your cottage?”

“No, thank you.” Maple smiled. “I have paint right here.” Her arm shook as she lifted the gallon.

At the bakery, Baker Mouse exclaimed, “Oh, Maple! What wonderful news! You are the Christmas Tea Mouse! Shall I make a Christmas tea cake?”

“No, thank you.” Maple smiled. “I have all the ingredients right here.” Her hands strained as she lifted the bags of flour and sugar.

At the general store, Builder Mouse bellowed, “Oh, Maple! What wonderful news! You are the Christmas Tea Mouse! Shall I fix your shutters?”

“No, thank you.” Maple smiled. “I have what I need here.” Her back buckled as she lifted the ladder.

One place after the next, Maple’s neighbors offered their gifts. One place after the next, Maple declined. For four days, she gathered supplies to create the perfect Christmas Tea. On the fifth morning, Maple sat with her tea and marveled at all she had accomplished.

“I have all I need!” she reveled and sipped.

Today, she would get all the housework done.

“First, I’ll climb up and hammer that shutter in place. Then I’ll paint the house and weed the flower beds. The floors, silver, sewing, and cleaning I’ll do after lunch. Then I’ll have a nice evening tea before bed.”

She tidied up her breakfast and set to work.

Maple opened the paint can, set it below the windows next to the garage, and got the ladder. She struggled under its weight, and her foot caught the paint-can lid. She slipped and spun. The ladder banged against the cottage, knocking the crooked shutter off and into the paint can below. Paint spilled all over the weedy flowers. Maple fell and lost hold of the ladder. It crashed into the cottage window, shattering the glass. Maple sat in a daze, unsure what to do. She decided to assess the damage first.

She limped inside to clean up the glass.

“This shouldn’t take long,” she reassured herself.

In the kitchen, she reached for her broom. The breeze from the broken window blew the curtains and snagged the broom handle. Maple yanked it free, but the curtains came too. The rod crashed down on the cabinet, sending tea cups, saucers, and the silver teapot flying. The teapot clanged to the floor, and the china shattered. Maple slumped down in her armchair, flopping onto one of the torn pillows. Feathers poofed out like confetti from a Christmas cracker. 

Maple gazed at the scene as the feathers floated around her. She beheld more chaos than creation.

Glass covered the unmopped floor ceramic cemetery of broken china. The window was now not only bare but broken. The cottage was shutterless, paintless, flowerless. And Maple … well, Maple was helpless.

Through tear-puddled eyes, she glimpsed a gentle reminder in her framed cross-stitched sampler:

Maker Mice must use their gifts 

for helping others first 

and also to accept the gifts 

of others in return.

“I need help,” Maple admitted.

Maple was a Tea Mouse. She was good at making tea. Her friends were good at their gifts.

She needed them.

Would they forgive her for snubbing their offers to help? Would they be too busy now? She had to find out. She stood up, dusted off, and went outside. 

Within the hour, she had gone to each of her friends and asked for forgiveness and help. She went down Tea Leaf Lane and Baker Street, Flower Pot Road and Fabric Avenue. Each mouse accepted her apology and scurried straight to work.

One by one, they came, mending, making, fixing, and creating—offering their gifts.

Builder Mouse hung the fallen shutter and fixed the broken window. Painter Mouse repainted the whole cottage. Gardener Mouse weeded the flowers and planted new ones to replace the squashed ones. Seamstress Mouse sewed new curtains and stuffed the pillows with new feathers. Potter Mouse made new tea sets even more beautiful than the old ones. Silversmith Mouse fixed the dented teapot and polished it to a shine. Cleaner Mouse swept and mopped the floors to sparkling. All that was left was for Maple to do what she did best—make the tea.

And what a tea it was!

It was the best Christmas Tea in the history of the Village of Maker Mice. Everyone said as much. Each Maker Mouse’s gift made the others’ all the better.

Maple decided to keep to her gift and let her friends keep to theirs. She would cherish this Christmas for many to come—the Christmas she learned to give and receive.

The featured image, “Every Good Wish,” is courtesy of Julie Jablonski and used with her kind permission for Cultivating.

Melody Trowell

Melody Trowell is a wife, mother, published children’s book author and poet, college professor, and amateur
gardener. She holds degrees in English and Linguistics and has taught middle school, high school, and college
English since 2004. During her time as a stay-at-home mom, she built a small business doing photography and
sewing children’s clothing and goods. She and her husband live in Texas with their three children in a little home
with big bookshelves and even bigger ideas. She has been writing stories and poetry since childhood and believes
language is one of God’s most beautiful gifts. Her desire is to show others how childlike faith and wonder lift the
veil between the spiritual and physical realms to help them see the evidence of Christ and His creation. Find her
online at www.melodytrowell.com.

www.melodytrowell.com