[Monks turn, each looking in the eyes of the
one nearest.
Gregory. Surely, here's an opportunity for a whole convent full of Monks to look foolish.
Anselm. Filing up in procession——
Ambrose. With our hands full of gifts——
Sebastian. To offer them to a miracle——
Felix. And then to find out that this miracle——
Hilarion. This famous miracle is nothing but Peter's little sister! [Hilarion doubles up with laughter, but controls himself as the Abbot lifts his hand for order.]
Abbot. My children, harken to me. Haven't I always maintained that there are two ways of looking at anything? If an object is not what we wish it to be in one light, let us see if there is not some other light under which it will surely meet our views. This dear little girl is a little girl and not a doll, that is true. She did not come up in the place of the wax doll, and she is not a miracle in that light. But look at her in another light, and surely she is a miracle—do you not see? Look at her, the darling little girl, isn't the very meaning and sweetness of all Christmas in her loving, trusting, innocent little face?
Monks. Yes, yes, she is a miracle, a miracle, indeed!
[Monks come forward and lay the toys at
her feet. Peter fairly hugs himself with joy.