“For our hearts are not pure; our hearts are filled with need and greed as much as with love and grace; and we wrestle with our hearts all the time. The wrestling is who we are. How we wrestle is who we are. What we want to be is never what we are. Not yet. Maybe that’s why we have these relentless engines in our chests, driving us forward toward what we might be.” – Brian Doyle

When the ancient Greek slave and storyteller Aesop had a point to make, he expressed it in the form of a simple story, recognizing that humble stories can teach great truths. When Jesus wished to impart some wisdom to his followers, he did so by telling them a parable, a type of story that conveys both a literal truth and a deeper meaning. When a Zen master wishes to give a young monk something important to think about, he offers a familiar but often-impenetrable little koan for consideration and reflection.

Great teachers have always understood the importance of storytelling as a way to convey information, ideas, and standards of personal and moral conduct. Telling stories is what we do when we gather around the water cooler at work, or around the campfire in the evenings. And what are novels, films and the theater except different examples of people telling each other stories in the dark?

Environmental historian William Cronan described stories as indispensable tools that humans use for making sense of the world and our own lives. Cronan said stories articulate our deepest values, and provide us the examples on which we rely when we confront moral dilemmas and have to make hard choices about proper actions.

Whether George Washington cut down any cherry trees or not, the story about him saying that he did has long been the standard measure against which the rest of us rate our own commitment to the virtue of honesty.

It being the day before Christmas, I wanted to share with you my favorite true story about innocence, courage, generosity and love.

An 8-year-old boy had a younger sister who was dying of leukemia, and he was told that without a blood transfusion she would die. His parents explained to him that his blood was probably compatible with hers, and if so, he could be the blood donor. They asked him if they could test his blood. He said sure. So they did and it was a good match. Then they asked if he would give his sister a pint of blood, that it could be her only chance of living. He said he would have to think about it overnight.

The next day he went to his parents and said he was willing to donate the blood. So they took him to the hospital where he was put on a gurney beside his 6-year old his sister. Both of them were hooked up to IVs. A nurse withdrew a pint of blood from the boy, which was then put in the girl’s IV. The boy lay on his gurney in silence while the blood dripped into his sister, until the doctor came over to see how he was doing.

Then the boy opened his eyes and asked, “How soon until I start to die?”

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. And may God bless us, every one.

Islander Tom Tyner is an attorney

for the Trust for Public Land. He is author

of “Skeletons From Our Closet,”

a collection of writings on the island’s latte scene.