Christmas Outside of Eden | Page 8

tell him. How transformed it
was from the gloomy jungle that had been wont to threaten him! It was
like a nest of down. From its farthest edge where Eden lay, a beam of
glory spanned it with an orange path. It was this beam that made the

golden mist about the Woman. To his amazement he saw that Eden's
gates were open. Even while he watched they began to close, slowly
and slowly, with the beam ever shortening, till at last they were utterly
locked and barred.
The memory of lost happiness overwhelmed him. He turned again to
the Woman. There she sat in the golden mantle of her hair, enthroned
on the snow's pure whiteness. Creeping to her humbly, he fell to
covering her feet with kisses, so great was his need of her.
"My Woman," he wept, "they are cold--so cold. Never again will I
leave thee, not even to find God."
She bent towards him, lifting his chin in her hand. "I shall feel the cold
no more. Put thy hand in my breast. Dost thou feel it? I have that next
my heart which, though I grow old, shall keep me forever warm."
As he slipped his hand in her breast, she parted her hair and showed
him. Kneeling beside her, he gazed down wonderingly at a thing that he
had never seen before. He could find no name for it. It was like himself
and it was like her also, only it was tiny and no thicker than his
fore-arm. It had wee feet and hands, a rose-bud of a mouth and it was
smooth and soft. Its head, which was the size of an apple, was covered
with silky floss. Lowering his face, he sniffed it all over. It smelt sweet
like the flowers that used to bloom in Eden.
"What is it?"
She shook her head. "It was here when I wakened." Her eyes became
bright and immense as stars. "It's our's," she whispered tenderly.

VIII
It was awkward to have something for which you could find no name,
especially when it was something that you had begun to love already.
"We'll have to ask someone," the Man said. "If I knew where He was, I
might ask----"
The Woman's face blanched. "Not God," she begged. "Because of the
fruit we ate, He might take it from us."
Just then they were disturbed by a rustling of snow. Looking up, they
saw the rabbit, watching them with timid eyes and recovering his
breath after the long climb.
"What d'you want?" the Man asked sharply.
The rabbit flicked his white scut and sat up on his hind-legs, his

whiskers quivering with excitement.
"I want to see it," he panted. "The dog's been boasting. I hurried
because I wanted to be the first to see it. I'm so little; I couldn't do it
any harm."
"Let him see it," said the Woman. "He's gentle. He might be able to tell
us what to call it."
So the Man told the rabbit that he could have just one peep. But when
the rabbit tried to get his peep by standing against the Woman's knees,
he wasn't tall enough, so the Man had to lift him till he lay all furry
against the little creature that was in the Woman's arms.
"I can't suggest anything," said the rabbit. "We ought to consult the
other animals. They all want to be friends; they're so curious. But
there's one thing I do know: we're both small and my coat would just fit
it."
Before they could stop him, he had pulled off his coat and was tucking
it snugly about the little stranger. He was right; it did fit exactly. So the
first garment of the earth's first baby was a rabbitskin, which accounts
for the rhyme which mothers sing about "Gone to fetch a rabbitskin, to
wrap the baby bunting in."
When the rabbit had presented his gift, he hopped down from the
Woman's lap very much thinner.
"And now can I bring the other animals?" he asked.
The Man hesitated. He was remembering the last visits of the lion and
the elephant and the rhinoceros. "They might find a name for it," the
rabbit pleaded.
Then the Man nodded and the rabbit scuttled off.
They hadn't long to wait before they heard a deep breathing and
grunting. Struggling up the frozen path to the cave came all the animals
that God had created. They advanced in single file, the great and the
small mixed up together; the giraffe followed by the hedgehog and the
mastodon preceded by the frog. They came hand-in-hand, forming a
chain to pull one another up, treading on each other's heels, jostling and
slipping back on one another. Those behind kept whispering to