At the break of Christmas Day,
Through the frosty starlight ringing,
Faint and sweet and far away,
Comes the sound of children, singing,
Chanting, singing,
“Cease to mourn,
For Christ is born,
Peace and joy to all men bringing!”
Careless that the chill winds blow,
Growing stronger, sweeter, clearer,
Noiseless footfalls in the snow
Bring the happy voices nearer;
Hear them singing,
“Winter’s drear,
But Christ is here,
Mirth and gladness with Him bringing!”
“Merry Christmas!” hear them say,
As the East is growing lighter;
“May the joy of Christmas Day
Make your whole year gladder, brighter!”
Join their singing,
“To each home
Our Christ has come,
All love’s treasures with Him bringing!”
Margaret Deland.
WHERE LOVE IS THERE GOD IS ALSO
Leo Tolstoi
Martuin, the shoemaker, lived in a city of Russia. His house was a little basement room with one window. Through this window he used to watch the people walking past. He was so far below the street that from his bench he could see only the feet of the passers-by but he knew them all by their boots. Nearly every pair of boots in the neighbourhood had been in his hands once and again. Some he would half sole, and some he would patch, some he would stitch around, and occasionally he would also put on new uppers. “Ah,” he would say to himself, “there goes the baker. That was a fine piece of leather.” Martuin always had plenty to do because he was a faithful workman, used good materials, and always finished an order as early as he promised it.
In the evening when his work was done he would light his little oil lamp, take his book down from the shelf and begin to read. He had but one book, a Bible, and as he read he thought of the wonderful Christ-child. “Ah,” he cried one night, “if He would only come to me and be my guest. If He should come, I wonder how I should receive Him.” Martuin rested his head upon his hands and dozed. “Martuin,” a voice seemed suddenly to sound in his ears.
He started from his sleep. “Who is here?” He looked around but there was no one.