“A citizen! A citizen! It is an omen!” they cried, and little Peregrine White was handed around and admired while the Pilgrims sang, with lusty voices, the good old English carol, “Unto us a child is born.”
Susanna White, lying there in her lowly bed, heard and marveled and was content.
AND so the gifts were passed, that first Christmas in 1620. They reveled in things of the soul rather than the body. They counted their tale of gifts and they were good. The clear, sparkling water; the seed corn, precious as jewels; the beginning of the free, fair homes; the new citizen, the little pilgrim; and the great gift of self-government and the freedom to worship according to the dictates of their consciences and to deepen and expand the living faith.
But the greatest gift of all is the mighty nation that has sprung from their loins. They have multiplied as the stars of the heavens and as the sand which is on the seashore.
As the children of peace, they have received peace, and the divine blessing rests upon them.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or alternate spelling has been retained from the original.