Dropped a handful of flakes
In the oriole's empty nest.
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
By permission of the Houghton Mifflin Company
Il Santissimo Bambino
"IL SANTISSIMO BAMBINO," of the Ara Cœli in Rome, smiles placidly with the gravity of a sphinx on all alike. Wee little folk before it clasp dimpled hands and lispingly recite their speeches of praise. Older folk lift up a prayer for the safe return of friends afar; sometimes, as a concession to the faithful—at a price—it is driven out in a bannered coach to bless the sick. If the patient is to live, the image will turn red; if he is to die, it will turn pale. Should its attendant monks by chance forget to return it to the gorgeous manger of the Franciscan church to which it belongs, perchance it will return of its own will, borne by no human hands, while all the bells of churches and convents are set a-swaying by the touch of angel hosts—or so the Roman peasants say.
In England similar images have been used in the service which follows the midnight mass of Christmas Eve; so soon as the Host is safely returned to its receptacle there is disclosed to the view of the reverently adoring monks the tiny waxen doll, elaborately swathed yet so as to leave visible the pink, expressionless face, and half hidden hands and feet. The officiating priest lifts the image and facing the waiting monks holds it reverently while in circling procession, one after another, each bends for a moment to kiss the tiny figure on face or hands, crosses himself and passes on. The ceremony is one to be seen only among the Trappist monks and only at this one service of the Christmas season.
W. P. R.
The Christ Child