The Gray Brethren | Page 4

and that
of Our Lady of Sorrows. It was very simple. A blue paper background
spangled with stars; a roughly thatched roof supported on four rude
posts; at the back, ox and ass lying among the straw with which the
ground was strewn. The figures were life-size, of carved and painted
wood: Joseph, tall and dignified, stood as guardian, leaning on his staff;
Mary knelt with hands slightly uplifted in loving adoration; and the
Babe lay in front on a truss of straw disposed as a halo. It was the
World's Child, and the position emphasised it. Two or three
hard-featured peasants knelt telling their beads; and a group of children

with round, blue eyes and stiff, flaxen pigtails, had gathered in front,
and were pointing and softly whispering. My little friends trotted up,
crossed themselves; it was evidently the little one's first visit.
"Guck! guck mal an," she cried, clapping her fat gloved hands, "sieh
mal an das Wickelkind!"
"Dass ist unser Jesu," said the elder, and the little one echoed "Unser
Jesu, unser Jesu!"
Then the vest was brought out and shown--why not, it was the
Christchild's own?--and the pair trotted away again followed by the
bright, patient Sister. Presently everyone clattered out, and I was left
alone at the crib of Bethlehem, the gate of the Kingdom of Heaven.
It was my family, my only family; but like the ever-widening circle on
the surface of a lake into which a stone has been flung, here, from this
great centre, spread the wonderful ever-widening relationship--the real
brotherhood of the world. It is at the Crib that everything has its
beginning, not at the Cross; and it is only as little children that we can
enter into the Kingdom of Heaven.
When I went out again into the streets it was nearly dark. Anxious
mothers hurried past on late, mysterious errands; papas who were not
wanted until the last moment chatted gaily to each other at street
corners, and exchanged recollections; maidservants hastened from shop
to shop with large baskets already heavily laden; and the children were
everywhere, important with secrets, comfortably secure in the
knowledge of a tree behind the parlour doors, and a kindly, generous
Saint who knew all their wants, and needed no rod THIS year.
One little lad, with a pinched white face, and with only an empty
certainty to look forward to, was singing shrilly in the sharp, still air,
"Zu Bethlehem geboren, ist uns ein Kindelein," as he gazed wistfully at
a shop window piled high with crisp gingerbread, marzipan, chocolate
under every guise, and tempting cakes. A great rough peasant coming
out, saw him, turned back, and a moment later thrust a gingerbread
Santa Klaus, with currant eyes and sugar trimming to his coat and cap,
into the half-fearful little hands. "Hab' ebenso ein Kerlchen zu Haus',"
he said to me apologetically as he passed.
I waited to see Santa Klaus disappear; but no, the child looked at the
cake, sighed deeply with the cruel effort of resistance, and refrained. It
was all his Christmas and he would keep it. He gazed and gazed, then a

smile rippled across the wan little face and he broke out in another
carol, "Es kam ein Engel hell und klar vom Himmel zu der Hirten
Schaar," and hugging his Santa Klaus carefully, wandered away down
the now brilliant streets: he did not know he was hungry any more; the
angel had come with good tidings.
As I passed along the streets I could see through the uncurtained
windows that in some houses Christmas had begun already for the little
ones. Then the bells rang out deep-mouthed, carrying the call of the
eager Church to her children, far up the valley and across the frozen
river. And they answered; the great church was packed from end to end,
and from my place by the door I saw that two tiny Christmas trees
bright with coloured candles burnt either side of the Holy Child.
A blue-black sky ablaze with stars for His glory, a fresh white robe for
stained and tired earth; so we went to Bethlehem in the rare stillness of
the early morning. The Church, having no stars, had lighted candles;
and we poor sinful men having no white robes of our own had craved
them of the Great King at her hands.
And so in the stillness, with tapers within and stars alight without, with
a white-clad earth, and souls forgiven, the Christ Child came to those
who looked for His appearing.

A Christmas Idyll

The Child with the wondering eyes sat on the doorstep, on either side
of her a tramp cat in process of becoming a recognised member of
society. On the flagged path in front the brown brethren were picking
up