Dear Webmaster:

Stories carry the magic of the holidays - Santa Claus fulfills a child's Christmas wish and shows us that it's more blessed to give than receive; the Christ child embodies the Creator's desire to dwell with humanity and declare, "Fear not! Peace on Earth...Good will toward men."

Stories drive our lives. Truth or fiction, whispered 'round the fire, carved into caves, broadcast in sound waves or moving pictures - or twittered in 147 characters - stories are the connecting threads of families and cultures immemorial.

The most important story for each of us remains the answer to, "Who am I?" In every action and interaction, children are seeking the answer to that question. Challenging children ask it loudest and urgently need to know seemingly when they are at their worst. It's so easy to answer in the anger or frustration of the moment, to give in to the story of "The trouble with you is..."

But if we consider who WE are before we answer, if we consider the parental legacy story that we are writing - the one we hope to overhear from on high as our children tell the story of who we were to their children and children's children - it's a bit easier to take a breath and stick with the love story. The story that perhaps injects a radical shift into your ancestral parenting story line and transforms it from negativity, punishment and a focus on what's wrong to positivity, encouragement and the ability to truthfully say everything that's right about someone and the effort they are making to show up authentically.

We know our child like none other. We have seen her tendencies from infanthood; his predispositions from the womb. I recall my younger son, who, barely walking himself, would assemble the shoes for everyone in the family as soon as he could understand that we were going somewhere. He's an athlete who loves to help and serve others. It's sure easy to lose sight of that story, though, when he's using everything that's not nailed down in the house for pitching and batting practice.

With my firstborn, my formerly difficult and still challenging child, I have other stories. Like him needing to find something to hold on to for support while he was nursing. Though never dropped, he simply didn't relax and trust that I could/would hold him safely and securely. He intensely needs a strong connection to me, but he is also independent and strong. He fights fiercely to be heard and respected. He can instantly find flaws in logic, character and life. It is my duty, as the energyparenting agent of transformation in his life, to answer the big Q for him thusly, "What a keen eye you have for imperfection and incongruencies, and how passionately you long to see everyone and everything live its full potential! I can hardly wait to see how you decide to use your gifts in your life mission."

Everything is a story, and everyone loves a good story, especially a love story with all the elements that rouse our laughs, tears and hopes: odds to overcome, raging conflict that appears insurmountable, complications galore, inner ugliness, and then decision time. What's it going to be? Let the circumstances get the best of you and give up, or rise above them and soar the heights? Ah, the desire to be together, to make this relationship work, finally prevails and the pain of the past, the struggle to become, melds into the strongest connections, and a family is born.

Energyparenting is an enduring framework upon which to hang your family story. The one with the happy ending. No matter how it might look, or what others might think or say, this is your story, and you are the writer, editor and publisher of it. You're in charge, and you get to choose the point of view from which every person and event will be seen. Trouble-maker or truth-seeker? Critic or quality control? Mess-in-motion or explorer-extraordinaire? Rebel or way-maker? Arguer or debate team candidate? Stubborn or strong-minded? Mistake or miracle? You're choosing the camera angle and writing the captions.

Use this sacred holiday time to retell the stories of your family's greatness, and to overwrite any stories that perpetuate anything otherwise. Then get your clan together around a fire with a cup of hot choc and let the story telling begin. Make it a love story, because the moral of the story of the holidays is that while it may appear to fumble and flail, love never fails.

To Your Story-Telling Greatness,

Susan McLeod, Publisher