“Art thou searching for the way home?” the old man asked. “Dost thou wish to leave this beautiful garden and go back to thy father and mother?”
“I want to go home,” said the child, with a sob in his voice, “but I cannot find the way, and I am, oh, so tired of searching for it.”
Then the old man stooped down and lifted him in his arms, and the child laid his head on the old man’s shoulder, and, weary with his wandering, fell fast asleep and remembered nothing more till he woke up in his own little bed.
Then the parents knew that Saint Nicholas had heard their prayers and had gone to fetch the child from the Heavenly Garden and brought him back to them.
So they were more grateful to the good saint than ever, and they loved and honoured him even more than they had done before; which was all the reward the demon got for his wicked doings.
That is one of the many stories told after the death of Saint Nicholas, and it ever helped and comforted his people to think that, though they could no longer see him he would love and protect them still.
Young maidens in need of help remembered the story of the golden bars and felt sure the good saint would not let them want. Sailors tossing on the stormy waves thought of that storm which had sunk to rest at the prayer of Saint Nicholas. Poor prisoners with no one to take their part were comforted by the thought of those other prisoners whom he had saved. And little children perhaps have remembered him most of all, for when the happy Christmas time draws near, who is so much in their thoughts as Saint Nicholas, or Santa Claus, as they call him? Perhaps they are a little inclined to think of him as some good magician who comes to fill their stockings with gifts, but they should never forget that he was the kind bishop who, in olden days, loved to make the little ones happy. There are some who think that even now he watches over and protects little children, and for that reason he is called their patron saint.