Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
“Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”
Hark the herald angels sing
“Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”

The fawns and young deer sat around the elder, his chiseled face smiling upon them all. The gods provided them a fire this cold night, and all around were old artifacts, reminders of those who lived long ago. The deer sat by old helmets, guns, bullets, and other decaying things that they knew very little about. They simply passed by these things on a daily basis, never understanding what a “man” even was.

“Sir? What does that mean? ‘Goodwill to men’?”, one of the fawns asked.

Iaurdagnire smiled, as he is asked this question each time he sings the old carol. “Ah yes, the mystery of men. Well, look all around and you will see the old things men used to have. See, these odd, unnatural things were like their antlers and fur. They used them to fight one another, and over time, they ceased to exist.”, he spoke to them.

“What did a man look like?”, a different fawn asked.

“Oh they were like monsters. They wore great big iron pots on their heads, walked on their hind legs, and carried terrible shooting things, with knives on them. And their eyes flashed, and had strange snouts on their faces that go all the way down to their stomach.”, the storyteller certainly made the fawns shiver when he described them.

“But how? Why are there no more men in the world?”, another fawn asked.

The stag shifted his body, “Well…they were always fighting about something. They fought over their possessions, they fought over land and sea and sky. They even fought over the Sun and the Moon above once! So they used their shooting ‘antlers’ and fought each other almost endlessly…until…”, he hesitated here, “…Until there were only two of them left, who still disagreed with one another over petty things.”

“And then what?”, a fawn eagerly asked.

Iaurdagnire snorted, and then looked to them all with a stern face, “The last two men could not settle their disagreement, and fought, constantly hunting one another, until they killed each other. They were the last men on Earth.”

He looked to the sky here, continuing, “Morning came, and the deer and squirrels and birds all came and looked around, not hearing any more gunshots or shouting. I was a young buck back then, and I remember finding one of their old chapels, a place the men went to serve their gods. There the animals gathered, and there was an old book of theirs sitting on a pedestal. I remember a wise owl was reading it, and I asked him about it. He told me that it was something the men were supposed to follow, but they didn’t. It read, ‘Ye shall not kill. Ye shall rebuild the old wastes.’”

The storyteller smiled, “So we all agreed, and began to use the men’s old things to build our homes, and we all worked together to have great shelters and place like this.”, and then looked all around so the fawns could see the grand places that were built with the old things the men owned. The fawns never knew why their shelters were so unusual. He continued, “And even though the men did terrible things, we do honor them every December. We remember the times of their wars, and pay tribute to them, for if it wasn’t for their fighting, we would not be able to share the peace on Earth we have today.”

The fawns nodded, understanding the lesson that the wise old stag was telling them.

“And that’s why we say, ‘Peace on Earth, goodwill to men.’”, Iaurdagnire spoke. The fawns began to yawn, the time for their peaceful sleep was here, and soon their mothers came to take them to their beds. As they walked off with their mothers, the storyteller sang the carol once more:

Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
“Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”
Hark the herald angels sing
“Peace on Earth, goodwill to men”