"Mamma," he went on, "see the ass and the ox that were in the stable when the little Jesus came into the world. Oh! the beautiful gray ass! and that ox that is all red; it looks like an ox for sure, like those in the fields. Say, little mother, could I throw a kiss to little Jesus?"
And the child, putting his finger-tips to his lips, made a delightfully naive salute.
The mother silently kissed her child, and it seemed to me that she was weeping.
"Now, darling," she said, "now that you've seen everything, say to the little Jesus the prayer you say every night before going to bed."
The child seemed to hesitate.
"You see there is nobody here but the good God and us; then you can say it low."
"My God," said the child; "I love you. Keep me during my sleep; keep little father and little mother too, good papa and good mamma, my sister Mary, who is at boarding-school, and all my relatives, living and dead. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, I give you my heart."
The mother and the child left. And I who had heard these things, I thought of the sacred texts:—
"Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God."
"I thank Thee, Father, because Thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to the little ones."