A Little Book for Christmas | Page 2

STRUCK OUT
BOLDLY" 96
"THE WORLD BOWS DOWN TO A MOTHER AND HER
CHILD--AND THE MOTHER HERSELF IS AT THE FEET OF THE

CHILD" 124
[Illustration]

A CHRISTMAS GREETING
"_Good Will Toward Men"--St. Luke 11-14._
There was a time when the spirit of Christmas was of the present. There
is a period when most of it is of the past. There shall come a day
perhaps when all of it will be of the future. The child time, the present;
the middle years, the past; old age, the future.
Come to my mind Christmas Days of long ago. As a boy again I enter
into the spirit of the Christmas stockings hanging before my fire. I
know what the children think to-day. I recall what they feel.
Passes childhood, and I look down the nearer years. There rise before
me remembrances of Christmas Days on storm-tossed seas, where
waves beat upon the ice-bound ship. I recall again the bitter touch of
water-warping winter, of drifts of snow, of wind-swept plains. In the
gamut of my remembrance I am once more in the poor, mean, lonely
little sanctuary out on the prairie, with a handful of Christians, mostly
women, gathered together in the freezing, draughty building. In later
years I worship in the great cathedral church, ablaze with lights,
verdant and fragrant with the evergreen pines, echoing with joyful
carols and celestial harmonies. My recollections are of contrasts like
those of life--joy and sadness, poverty and ease.
And the pictures are full of faces, many of which may be seen no more
by earthly vision. I miss the clasp of vanished hands, I crave the sound
of voices stilled. As we old and older grow, there is a note of sadness in
our glee. Whether we will or not we must twine the cypress with the
holly. The recollection of each passing year brings deeper regret. How
many have gone from those circles that we recall when we were
children? How many little feet that pattered upon the stair on Christmas
morning now tread softer paths and walk in broader ways; sisters and
brothers who used to come back from the far countries to the old
home--alas, they cannot come from the farther country in which they
now are, and perhaps, saddest thought of all, we would not wish them
to come again. How many, with whom we joined hands around the
Christmas tree, have gone?
Circles are broken, families are separated, loved ones are lost, but the

old world sweeps on. Others come to take our places. As we stood at
the knee of some unforgotten mother, so other children stand. As we
listened to the story of the Christ Child from the lips of some grey old
father, so other children listen and we ourselves perchance are fathers
or mothers too. Other groups come to us for the deathless story. Little
heads which recall vanished halcyon days of youth bend around
another younger mother. Smaller hands than ours write letters to Santa
Claus and hear the story, the sweetest story ever told, of the Baby who
came to Mary and through her to all the daughters and sons of women
on that winter night on the Bethlehem hills.
And we thank God for the children who take us out of the past, out of
ourselves, away from recollections that weigh us down; the children
that weave in the woof and warp of life when our own youth has passed,
some of the buoyancy, the joy, the happiness of the present; the
children in whose opening lives we turn hopefully to the future. We
thank God at this Christmas season that it pleased Him to send His
beloved Son to come to us as a little child, like any other child. We
thank God that in the lesser sense we may see in every child who
comes to-day another incarnation of divinity. We thank God for the
portion of His Spirit with which He dowers every child of man, just as
we thank Him for pouring it all upon the Infant in the Manger.
There is no age that has not had its prophet. No country, no people, but
that has produced its leader. But did any of them ever before come as a
little child? Did any of them begin to lead while yet in arms? Lodges
there upon any other baby brow "the round and top of sovereignty?"
What distinguished Christ and His Christian followers from all the
world? Behold! no mighty monarch, but "a little child shall lead them!"
You may see through the glass darkly, you may not know or
understand the blessedness of faith in Him as He would have you know
it, but there is nothing that can dim the light that radiates from that