"Begone, you lazy guzzler," she said, "if you were one half as good at working as you are at saying your prayers, you would not be looking for alms to-night, nor troubling honest people," and with that she struck the door to, in the face of the poor man, and sat down again at the table.
Patrick heard a bit of the talk she gave the poor man, and he asked who was at the door.
"A lazy good-for-nothing, that was looking for alms," said she, "and if it wasn't that it was a lazy vagabone that was in it, he would not come looking for alms from people who are earning their share of food hardly, but he would sooner be saying his old prayers than working for meat."
Patrick rose. "Bad was the thing you did," said he, "to refuse anyone for a morsel of meat, and especially to refuse him on Christmas night. Isn't it God that sent us everything that we have; there is more on this table than will be eaten to-night; how do you know whether we shall be alive to-morrow?"
"Sit down," says she, "and don't be making a fool of yourself; we want no sermons."
"May God change your heart," says Patrick, and with that he got the full of his two hands of bread and food, and out with him, following the poor man, going on the track of his feet in the snow as quick as he could, till he came up with him. He handed him the food then, and told him he was sorry for his wife's refusing him. "But," says he, "I'm sure there was anger on her."
"Thank you for your food," said the poor man. He handed the food back again to him, and said "[there], you have your food and your thanks, [both]. I am an angel from heaven who was sent to your wife in the form of a poor man, to ask alms of her in the honour of Jesus Christ, who was born this night, and who suffered the passion of the Cross for the human race. She was not satisfied with refusing me, but she abused me also. You shall receive a great reward for your alms, but as for your wife she shall not be long until she is standing in the presence of Jesus Christ to give Him an account of the way in which she spent her life on this world."
The angel departed, and Patrick returned home. He sat down, but he could neither eat nor drink.
"What's on you?" says the wife, "did that stroller do anything to you?"
"My grief! it was no stroller was in it, but an angel from heaven who was sent to you in the shape of a man to ask alms of you, in honour of Jesus Christ, and you were not satisfied with refusing him, but you must abuse him with bad names. Now, your life on this world is not long, and in the name of God, I beseech you, make a good use of it."