Nothing at first. Their eyes were blinded by the light of a great fire which burned in the rude stone fireplace, a fire kindled with evergreen branches so that the room was full of the fragrance of Christmas trees. “This is the odor of the frankincense and myrrh,” whispered one child. “He must have brought it with Him for us.” Then, as their eyes grew accustomed to the brilliant light, they saw in one dim corner the old donkey which drew heavy loads for the miners. Beside him stood one cow, a couple of sheep, and on the rafters over their heads perched a pair of blue pigeons. The children had seen them all before, often, but in the light of the fire, with the star shining above them, the simple animals, the same as those which had surrounded the Christ on the first Christmas, seemed as miraculous as a host of angels. And then, at last, they saw the One for whom they were seeking!
The cow’s manger had been pulled out beside the blazing fire and in it, warm and cozy and wrapped in swaddling bands, lay a tiny, beautiful baby. With a gasp of wonder the children knelt in the straw before him. Around his head was no circle of marvelous glory, but his sweet blue eyes opened, big and shining in his tiny face, and to the children he seemed indeed the baby King of whom they had dreamed. Beside him on the straw lay a woman wrapped in a dark cloak. Even Carl did not at first recognize her as his mother. She had crept off that morning to the one peaceful spot in the camp, where her husband had built the great fire for her, and there, with the peaceful animals around him, the little baby boy had been born.
“The Christ Child has come to us,” whispered one child blissfully. “The little King is here!” said others softly. “He has brought the fragrance the wise men gave Him,” murmured another. “And the joy of Christmas He has brought to us all to last forever,” said Carl in his sweet voice. Overwhelmed with the beauty and wonder of the scene, they had forgotten the longed-for gift of gold, and then the door swung open and the children saw Carl’s father enter and step across the room to the mother on the hay. His face shone with the glory in which the whole world seemed to be bathed. Was it only the light of the sunset and the blazing fire? Ah, no, his voice rang with gladness as he exclaimed, “Wife, they have found the gold; the mine will give treasure to us all!”
The children clasped their hands in blissful content. They had known it would come with the coming of the little King,—gold for the desperate men, peace for the tired women, happiness for them all,—and it had come true even more wonderfully than they had dreamed.
The star shone through the window in the loft, the last rays of the sunset turned the snow to gold, and within, in the light of the fire, the children knelt, gazing rapturously at the little newborn baby in the manger. So the miners found them. They were returning to the camp jubilant over the newly discovered gold; it would make them all rich, and they planned to celebrate by a night of riotous drinking. But on the way to the shacks they passed the stable. It was strange to see it lighted at this hour, and one man turned aside to see what was happening there. As he stood looking silently through the window another joined him, and another, until the whole crowd stood outside, gazing through the windows, silent and abashed. The kneeling children, the baby in the manger, the star above them, what did it all mean?
“It is Christmas Eve,” murmured one man. “That must be the big Carl’s kid,” said another, “but even the blessed Lord Jesus Himself couldn’t have looked any sweeter.”
“Gifts of gold,” said the man who was the leader of the gang, and his clear voice reached every miner’s ears, “gifts of gold, if I remember rightly, were brought once to the Christ on His first birthday. It’s His birthday to-night, though none of us remembered it, and now the gifts of gold have come to us. Who knows whether they have not come from Him, the Lord whom we had forgotten?”
There was silence again, and then as night fell and the stars shone out over that peaceful scene, there entered into the heart of every man, woman, and child there the spirit of the Christ Child.
Later, when the children understood that the baby was Carl’s little brother, the wonder was none the less. Possibly they felt the great truth, that the Christ Child is born in every baby who comes into the world, or perhaps they simply felt the glory of His presence, as the men and women around them lost their harsh and gloomy ways and became joyful, tender, compassionate. For from that Christmas Eve until the mine had been worked, and the men had scattered happily to their homes, the camp was a different place. The drinking and fighting ceased, and the men played with the children, shyly at first and then merrily, thinking of “those other kids at home.” The women sang over their tasks, and if the music was not as heavenly as the angels’ song, it was full of cheer and peace and good will. And so to the children the camp became truly a place in which, on that marvelous Christmas Eve, the Christ Child had been born.