I
Long, long ago, in a far away city, there was a large church. The tower of this church was so high that it seamed to touch the clouds, and in the high tower there were three wonderful bells. When they rang, they made sweet music.
There was something strange about these bells. They were never heard to ring except on Christmas eve, and no one knew who rang them. Some people thought it was the wind blowing through the tower. Others thought the angels rang them when a gift pleased the Christ Child.
Although the people did not know what rang the bells, they loved to hear them. They would come from miles around to listen to the wonderful music. When they had heard the bells, they would go out of the church, silent but happy. Then all would go back to their homes feeling that Christmas had come, indeed.
One Christmas eve the people in the church waited and waited, but the bells did not ring. Silently and sadly they went home. Christmas after Christmas came and went. Nearly one hundred years passed by, and in all that time the bells did not ring.
People sometimes asked one another, "Do you suppose the bells ever did ring?"
"Yes," said one very old man. "I have often heard my father tell how beautifully they rang on Christmas eve. There was more love in the world then."
Every Christmas eve the church was filled with people who waited and listened. They hoped that the bells would ring again as they had rung long ago. Though many gifts were laid on the altar, still the bells did not ring.