Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;
Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding;
Oh, bring us a figgy pudding and bring it right here.
Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;
Good tidings for Christmas and a Happy New Year.
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some,
so bring some out here.
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas;
We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Jingle Bells
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh, O
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh
O'r the fields we go
Laughing all the way.
Bells on bob-tail ring
Making spirits bright
What fun it is to ride and sing
A sleighing song tonight.
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh, O
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh
O'r the fields we go
Laughing all the way.
Bells on bob-tail ring
Making spirits bright
What fun it is to ride and sing
A sleighing song tonight.
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh, O
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way,
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one-horse open sleigh.
Carol of the Bells
Hark how the bells,
sweet silver bells,
all seem to say,
throw cares away
Christmas is here,
bringing good cheer,
to young and old,
meek and the bold.
Ding dong ding dong
that is their song
with joyful ring
all caroling.
One seems to hear
words of good cheer
from everywhere
filling the air.
Oh how they pound,
raising the sound,
o'er hill and dale,
telling their tale.
Gaily they ring
while people sing
songs of good cheer,
Christmas is here.
Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas,
Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry Christmas.
On on they send,
on without end,
their joyful tone
to every home.
Ding dong ding... dong!
Joy to the World
Joy to the world, the Lord is come!
Let earth receive her King;
Let every heart prepare Him room,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven and nature sing,
And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.
Joy to the world, the Savior reigns!
Let men their songs employ;
While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat the sounding joy,
Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.
No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found.
He rules the world with truth and grace,
And makes the nations prove
The glories of His righteousness,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders of His love,
And wonders, wonders, of His love.
O Little Town of Bethlehem
O little town of Bethlehem
How still we see thee lie
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight
For Christ is born of Mary
And gathered all above
While mortals sleep, the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love
O morning stars together
Proclaim the holy birth
And praises sing to God the King
And Peace to men on earth
How silently, how silently
The wondrous gift is given!
So God imparts to human hearts
The blessings of His heaven.
No ear may his His coming,
But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still,
The dear Christ enters in.
O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel
Silent Night
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child
Holy Infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!
Christ, the Saviour is born
Christ, the Saviour is born
Silent night, holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth "
The Virgin Mary, Handmaid of the Lord
by Dr. Ralph F. Wilson
Mary sat on the floor in the sunlight which flooded through the window of her parents' house. She was thinking, daydreaming. Young teenagers were allowed that luxury. She'd overheard the old biddies at the well chattering about her as she had gone to get water that morning....
"Did you go to the betrothal celebration yesterday?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I wept through the whole thing. It was so beautiful."
"It's about time Joseph got himself a wife! A man his age ought to have a flock of children racing in and out of his shop by now."
"But he's so old for her. If he were twenty, maybe, a fourteen-year-old bride would be all right. But thirty?...
"Oh, he'll make her a good husband, mark my words. But I don't know about her. What kind of cook is she?"
Just then they had noticed Mary and the jabbering ceased. She could see them looking at her, though, sizing her up. It's not as if it's the first time they've seen me, Mary thought. I was born in Nazareth.
Bethrothed. Engaged. Mary smiled. Every girl's dream has come true for me. People already look at me as Joseph's wife. How can I stand to wait another whole year for the wedding ceremony? Oh, well, all the other girls wait, too, and they survive. Her thoughts began to picture what the wedding would be like....
Suddenly she heard a commanding voice: "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."
She glanced up, and then gasped. A huge man stood over her. Mary instinctively cringed back into the corner. What kind of greeting was that for a peasant girl? What was going on here?
"Do not be afraid, Mary," the man went on, "you have found favor with God."
Favor with God? Who was this man? Mary relaxed a bit. He didn't seem threatening....
The man proceeded. "You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus..."
What? She had just been betrothed a day....
The man didn't pause. "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."
The ancient throne of the fabled King David? Certainly she was descended from David, as were thousands of others in Israel. But her son? Her son would be the Messiah prophesied of old? She was stunned. She looked around the room. The man made it sound so immediate, so imminent. Who was this man, speaking so boldly the promises to Israel? She looked up. An angel? Could it be? It seemed as if he was waiting for her to respond.
"Ah... how will this be," she stuttered, "since I am a virgin?" He must know she wasn't married yet!
The angel answered, but more slowly now, as if he had delivered his proclamation, and now was taking time to explain it. "Dear child," he began, "the Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God."
Her thoughts raced. So it wasn't going to be Joseph's child after all, but one conceived by God's Holy Spirit. Who would ever believe that? What would Joseph say? Divorce me as soon as I started to show, probably! How could he ever understand? And who would ever consider marrying the mother of a ... She couldn't bring herself to even think that bitter word. She could feel her face starting to flush and her ears burn.
And what would I do with such a child? I'm not some princess in a palace raising a king! Just a poor girl in an obscure mountain town. Doesn't he know how they treat children in this town whose mothers get pregnant before they marry?
But the angel was still speaking. "... Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month."
Elizabeth? She was nearly sixty! Mary hadn't seen her for years. How could it be? But it was! Elizabeth? She must be bubbling over joy right now! Six months pregnant? That would give the women in her town something to talk about!
The angel had stopped now. He was just standing there. Friendly, but with the bearing of a royal messenger awaiting an answer for his lord.
What should she say? Part of her wanted to shout, Oh, yes! The mother of Messiah. How exciting! How grand! What an honor...
But inside she felt a trapped, crawling sensation. What would it mean to become pregnant out of wedlock? Divorce, shame, shunning. A son who would never be really accepted by her neighbors. A boy they call cruel names. And she ... she would never be asked to marry. She'd live out her days alone, in her parents home....
Mary weighed the glory and the cost. But finally she knew what she must do. Glory and cost weren't the point at all, she realized. God has chosen me to be His special servant. He wants me to do this special thing for Him. And, even though it costs me everything I hold dear, I will do it! I will say Yes ... for Him!
Mary looked up at the man. And then reached out to the window sill to pull herself up until she was standing her full fourteen-year-old height before the towering angel. Her eyes met his, and she said very quietly. "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said."
She thought she could see the great man smile gently for a long moment. Then he turned and was gone. Even as she felt the tears starting to well up within her, Mary stood tall.
Mary sat on the floor in the sunlight which flooded through the window of her parents' house. She was thinking, daydreaming. Young teenagers were allowed that luxury. She'd overheard the old biddies at the well chattering about her as she had gone to get water that morning....
"Did you go to the betrothal celebration yesterday?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. I wept through the whole thing. It was so beautiful."
"It's about time Joseph got himself a wife! A man his age ought to have a flock of children racing in and out of his shop by now."
"But he's so old for her. If he were twenty, maybe, a fourteen-year-old bride would be all right. But thirty?...
"Oh, he'll make her a good husband, mark my words. But I don't know about her. What kind of cook is she?"
Just then they had noticed Mary and the jabbering ceased. She could see them looking at her, though, sizing her up. It's not as if it's the first time they've seen me, Mary thought. I was born in Nazareth.
Bethrothed. Engaged. Mary smiled. Every girl's dream has come true for me. People already look at me as Joseph's wife. How can I stand to wait another whole year for the wedding ceremony? Oh, well, all the other girls wait, too, and they survive. Her thoughts began to picture what the wedding would be like....
Suddenly she heard a commanding voice: "Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."
She glanced up, and then gasped. A huge man stood over her. Mary instinctively cringed back into the corner. What kind of greeting was that for a peasant girl? What was going on here?
"Do not be afraid, Mary," the man went on, "you have found favor with God."
Favor with God? Who was this man? Mary relaxed a bit. He didn't seem threatening....
The man proceeded. "You will be with child and give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus..."
What? She had just been betrothed a day....
The man didn't pause. "He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; his kingdom will never end."
The ancient throne of the fabled King David? Certainly she was descended from David, as were thousands of others in Israel. But her son? Her son would be the Messiah prophesied of old? She was stunned. She looked around the room. The man made it sound so immediate, so imminent. Who was this man, speaking so boldly the promises to Israel? She looked up. An angel? Could it be? It seemed as if he was waiting for her to respond.
"Ah... how will this be," she stuttered, "since I am a virgin?" He must know she wasn't married yet!
The angel answered, but more slowly now, as if he had delivered his proclamation, and now was taking time to explain it. "Dear child," he began, "the Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God."
Her thoughts raced. So it wasn't going to be Joseph's child after all, but one conceived by God's Holy Spirit. Who would ever believe that? What would Joseph say? Divorce me as soon as I started to show, probably! How could he ever understand? And who would ever consider marrying the mother of a ... She couldn't bring herself to even think that bitter word. She could feel her face starting to flush and her ears burn.
And what would I do with such a child? I'm not some princess in a palace raising a king! Just a poor girl in an obscure mountain town. Doesn't he know how they treat children in this town whose mothers get pregnant before they marry?
But the angel was still speaking. "... Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be barren is in her sixth month."
Elizabeth? She was nearly sixty! Mary hadn't seen her for years. How could it be? But it was! Elizabeth? She must be bubbling over joy right now! Six months pregnant? That would give the women in her town something to talk about!
The angel had stopped now. He was just standing there. Friendly, but with the bearing of a royal messenger awaiting an answer for his lord.
What should she say? Part of her wanted to shout, Oh, yes! The mother of Messiah. How exciting! How grand! What an honor...
But inside she felt a trapped, crawling sensation. What would it mean to become pregnant out of wedlock? Divorce, shame, shunning. A son who would never be really accepted by her neighbors. A boy they call cruel names. And she ... she would never be asked to marry. She'd live out her days alone, in her parents home....
Mary weighed the glory and the cost. But finally she knew what she must do. Glory and cost weren't the point at all, she realized. God has chosen me to be His special servant. He wants me to do this special thing for Him. And, even though it costs me everything I hold dear, I will do it! I will say Yes ... for Him!
Mary looked up at the man. And then reached out to the window sill to pull herself up until she was standing her full fourteen-year-old height before the towering angel. Her eyes met his, and she said very quietly. "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said."
She thought she could see the great man smile gently for a long moment. Then he turned and was gone. Even as she felt the tears starting to well up within her, Mary stood tall.
A Christmas Story
Once upon a time a man called Nicholas lived in Patara, a town in the East. Because he was very fond of children and was kind and generous to them, they came to think of him as their dear friend and their beloved saint. So it was that after a time the wonderful things he did were woven into a beautiful legend. You know that Santa means Saint and Claus stands for Nicholas, and that is how he came to be known as Santa Claus.
In Santa Claus’s own town, Patara, lived a great lord who had three daughters. He was very poor, so poor that one day he was on the point of sending his daughters out to beg for food from his neighbors. But it happened that Saint Nicholas not long before had come into a fortune, and as he loved giving to those in need, he no sooner heard of the trouble the poor lord was in than he made up his mind to help him secretly. So he went to the nobleman’s house at night, and as the moon shone out from behind a cloud, he saw an open window into which he threw a bag of gold, and with this timely gift the father was able to provide for his eldest daughter so that she could be married. On another night Santa Claus set off with another bag of gold, and threw it in at the window, so the second daughter was provided for. But by this time, the father had grown eager to discover who the mysterious visitor could be, and next night he kept on the lookout. Then for the third time Santa Claus came with a bag of gold upon his back and itched it in at the window. The old lord at once recognized his fellow townsman, and falling on his knees, cried out “Oh! Nicholas, servant of God, why seek to hide yourself?”
Is it not wonderful to think that this was so long ago, sixteen hundred years, yet we still look for the secret coming of Santa Claus with his Christmas gifts? At first he was said to come on his own birthday, which is early in December, but after awhile, as was very natural with Christmas so near, the night of his coming was moved on in the calendar, and now we hang up our stockings to receive his gifts on Christmas Eve. In some countries children still put their shoes by the fireside on his birthday. In others they say it is the Christ-Kindlein or Christ Child who brings the gifts at Christmastime. But it is always a surprise visit, and though it has happened so many hundreds or times, the hanging up of the Christmas stocking is still as great a delight as ever.
In Santa Claus’s own town, Patara, lived a great lord who had three daughters. He was very poor, so poor that one day he was on the point of sending his daughters out to beg for food from his neighbors. But it happened that Saint Nicholas not long before had come into a fortune, and as he loved giving to those in need, he no sooner heard of the trouble the poor lord was in than he made up his mind to help him secretly. So he went to the nobleman’s house at night, and as the moon shone out from behind a cloud, he saw an open window into which he threw a bag of gold, and with this timely gift the father was able to provide for his eldest daughter so that she could be married. On another night Santa Claus set off with another bag of gold, and threw it in at the window, so the second daughter was provided for. But by this time, the father had grown eager to discover who the mysterious visitor could be, and next night he kept on the lookout. Then for the third time Santa Claus came with a bag of gold upon his back and itched it in at the window. The old lord at once recognized his fellow townsman, and falling on his knees, cried out “Oh! Nicholas, servant of God, why seek to hide yourself?”
Is it not wonderful to think that this was so long ago, sixteen hundred years, yet we still look for the secret coming of Santa Claus with his Christmas gifts? At first he was said to come on his own birthday, which is early in December, but after awhile, as was very natural with Christmas so near, the night of his coming was moved on in the calendar, and now we hang up our stockings to receive his gifts on Christmas Eve. In some countries children still put their shoes by the fireside on his birthday. In others they say it is the Christ-Kindlein or Christ Child who brings the gifts at Christmastime. But it is always a surprise visit, and though it has happened so many hundreds or times, the hanging up of the Christmas stocking is still as great a delight as ever.
The Holy Night
By Selma Lagerlof
There was a man who went out in the dark night to borrow live coals to kindle a fire. He went from hut to hut and knocked. “Dear friends, help me!” said he. “My wife has just given birth to a child, and I must make a fire to warm her and the little one.”
But it was way in the night, and all the people were asleep. No one replied.
The man walked and walked. At last he saw the gleam of a fire a long way off. Then he went in that direction and saw that the fire was burning in the open. A lot of sheep were were sleeping around the fire, and an old shepherd sat and watched over the flock.
When the man who wanted to borrow fire came up to the sheep, he saw that three big dogs lay asleep at the shepherd’s feet. All three awoke when the man approached and opened their great jaws, as though they wanted to bark; but not a sound was heard. The man noticed that the hair on their backs stood up and that their sharp, white teeth glistened in the firelight. They dashed toward him.
He felt that one of them bit at his leg and one at this hand and that one clung to this throat. But their jaws and teeth wouldn’t obey them, and the man didn’t suffer the least harm.
Now the man wished to go farther, to get what he needed. But the sheep lay back to back and so close to one another that he couldn’t pass them. Then the man stepped upon their backs and walked over them and up to the fire. And not one of the animals awoke or moved.
When the man had almost reached the fire, the shepherd looked up. He was a surly old man, who was unfriendly and harsh toward human beings. And when he saw the strange man coming, he seized the long, spiked staff, which he always held in his hand when he tended his flock, and threw it at him. The staff came right toward the man, but, before it reached him, it turned off to one side and whizzed past him, far out in the meadow.
Now the man came up to the shepherd and said to him: “Good man, help me, and lend me a little fire! My wife has just given birth to a child, and I must make a fire to warm her and the little one.”
The shepherd would rather have said no, but when he pondered that the dogs couldn’t hurt the man, and the sheep had not run from him, and that the staff had not wished to strike him, he was a little afraid, and dared not deny the man that which he asked.
“Take as much as you need!” he said to the man.
But then the fire was nearly burnt out. There were no logs or branches left, only a big heap of live coals, and the stranger had neither spade nor shovel wherein he could carry the red-hot coals.
When the shepherd saw this, he said again: “Take as much as you need!” And he was glad that the man wouldn’t be able to take away any coals.
But the man stopped and picked coals from the ashes with his bare hands, and laid them in his mantle. And he didn’t burn his hands when he touched them, nor did the coals scorch his mantle; but he carried them away as if they had been nuts or apples.
And when the shepherd, who was such a cruel and hardhearted man, saw all this, he began to wonder to himself. What kind of a night is this, when the dogs do not bite, the sheep are not scared, the staff does not kill, or the fire scorch? He called the stranger back and said to him: “What kind of a night is this? And how does it happen that all things show you compassion?”
Then said the man: “I cannot tell you if you yourself do not see it.” And he wished to go his way, that he might soon make a fire and warm his wife and child.
But the shepherd did not wish to lose sight of the man before he had found out what all this might portend. He got up and followed the man till they came to the place where he lived.
Then the shepherd saw the man didn’t have so much as a hut to dwell in, but that his wife and babe were lying in a mountain grotto, where there was nothing except the cold and naked stone walls.
But the shepherd thought that perhaps the poor innocent child might freeze to death there in the grotto; and, although he was a hard man, he was touched, and thought he would like to help it. And he loosened the knapsack from his shoulder, took from it a soft white sheepskin, gave it to the strange man, and said that he should let the child sleep on it.
But just as soon as he showed that he, too, could be merciful, his eyes were opened, and he saw what he had not been able to see before, and heard what he could not have heard before.
He saw that all around him stood a ring of little silver-winged angels, and each held a stringed instrument, and all sang in loud tones that tonight the Saviour was born who should redeem the world from its sins.
Then he understood how all things were so happy this night that they didn’t want to do anything wrong.
And it was not only around the shepherd that there were angels, but he saw them everywhere. They sat inside the grotto, they sat outside on the mountain, and they flew under the heavens. They came marching in great companies, and, as they passed, they paused and cast a glance at the child.
There was such jubilation and such gladness and songs and play! And all this he saw in the dark night whereas before he could not have made out anything. He was so happy because his eyes had been opened that he fell upon his knees and thanked God.
What that shepherd saw, we might also see, for the angels fly down from heaven every Christmas Eve, if we could only see them.
You must remember this, for it is as true, as true as that I see you and you see me. It is not revealed by the light of lamps or candles, and it does not depend upon sun and moon; but that which is needful is that we have such eyes as can see God’s glory.
There was a man who went out in the dark night to borrow live coals to kindle a fire. He went from hut to hut and knocked. “Dear friends, help me!” said he. “My wife has just given birth to a child, and I must make a fire to warm her and the little one.”
But it was way in the night, and all the people were asleep. No one replied.
The man walked and walked. At last he saw the gleam of a fire a long way off. Then he went in that direction and saw that the fire was burning in the open. A lot of sheep were were sleeping around the fire, and an old shepherd sat and watched over the flock.
When the man who wanted to borrow fire came up to the sheep, he saw that three big dogs lay asleep at the shepherd’s feet. All three awoke when the man approached and opened their great jaws, as though they wanted to bark; but not a sound was heard. The man noticed that the hair on their backs stood up and that their sharp, white teeth glistened in the firelight. They dashed toward him.
He felt that one of them bit at his leg and one at this hand and that one clung to this throat. But their jaws and teeth wouldn’t obey them, and the man didn’t suffer the least harm.
Now the man wished to go farther, to get what he needed. But the sheep lay back to back and so close to one another that he couldn’t pass them. Then the man stepped upon their backs and walked over them and up to the fire. And not one of the animals awoke or moved.
When the man had almost reached the fire, the shepherd looked up. He was a surly old man, who was unfriendly and harsh toward human beings. And when he saw the strange man coming, he seized the long, spiked staff, which he always held in his hand when he tended his flock, and threw it at him. The staff came right toward the man, but, before it reached him, it turned off to one side and whizzed past him, far out in the meadow.
Now the man came up to the shepherd and said to him: “Good man, help me, and lend me a little fire! My wife has just given birth to a child, and I must make a fire to warm her and the little one.”
The shepherd would rather have said no, but when he pondered that the dogs couldn’t hurt the man, and the sheep had not run from him, and that the staff had not wished to strike him, he was a little afraid, and dared not deny the man that which he asked.
“Take as much as you need!” he said to the man.
But then the fire was nearly burnt out. There were no logs or branches left, only a big heap of live coals, and the stranger had neither spade nor shovel wherein he could carry the red-hot coals.
When the shepherd saw this, he said again: “Take as much as you need!” And he was glad that the man wouldn’t be able to take away any coals.
But the man stopped and picked coals from the ashes with his bare hands, and laid them in his mantle. And he didn’t burn his hands when he touched them, nor did the coals scorch his mantle; but he carried them away as if they had been nuts or apples.
And when the shepherd, who was such a cruel and hardhearted man, saw all this, he began to wonder to himself. What kind of a night is this, when the dogs do not bite, the sheep are not scared, the staff does not kill, or the fire scorch? He called the stranger back and said to him: “What kind of a night is this? And how does it happen that all things show you compassion?”
Then said the man: “I cannot tell you if you yourself do not see it.” And he wished to go his way, that he might soon make a fire and warm his wife and child.
But the shepherd did not wish to lose sight of the man before he had found out what all this might portend. He got up and followed the man till they came to the place where he lived.
Then the shepherd saw the man didn’t have so much as a hut to dwell in, but that his wife and babe were lying in a mountain grotto, where there was nothing except the cold and naked stone walls.
But the shepherd thought that perhaps the poor innocent child might freeze to death there in the grotto; and, although he was a hard man, he was touched, and thought he would like to help it. And he loosened the knapsack from his shoulder, took from it a soft white sheepskin, gave it to the strange man, and said that he should let the child sleep on it.
But just as soon as he showed that he, too, could be merciful, his eyes were opened, and he saw what he had not been able to see before, and heard what he could not have heard before.
He saw that all around him stood a ring of little silver-winged angels, and each held a stringed instrument, and all sang in loud tones that tonight the Saviour was born who should redeem the world from its sins.
Then he understood how all things were so happy this night that they didn’t want to do anything wrong.
And it was not only around the shepherd that there were angels, but he saw them everywhere. They sat inside the grotto, they sat outside on the mountain, and they flew under the heavens. They came marching in great companies, and, as they passed, they paused and cast a glance at the child.
There was such jubilation and such gladness and songs and play! And all this he saw in the dark night whereas before he could not have made out anything. He was so happy because his eyes had been opened that he fell upon his knees and thanked God.
What that shepherd saw, we might also see, for the angels fly down from heaven every Christmas Eve, if we could only see them.
You must remember this, for it is as true, as true as that I see you and you see me. It is not revealed by the light of lamps or candles, and it does not depend upon sun and moon; but that which is needful is that we have such eyes as can see God’s glory.
Olive, the Orphan Reindeer
CHAPTER 1
Wolves
The storm in the Barrens raged around the little reindeer with a nose like an olive. “Mommy! Daddy!” She’d lost her mother and father and brothers and sisters. The night wind shrieked. The snowflakes stung her eyes. “Mommy! Daddy! Where are you?” But no one could hear. And now - danger! - wolves. She could smell them. They were close. Maybe they got my family, she thought, and want me too. So the little reindeer ran as fast as she could. In the fierce storm she didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to get away. The wolves chased her, but she soon left them far behind. Even when she no longer picked up their scent, she ran and ran. Finally she came to the North Pole.
CHAPTER 2
Mrs. Claus
Gasping for breath, she found herself in front of Santa and Mrs. Claus’s house. Night here was calm and peaceful. She saw them arm in arm on their doorstep. They were looking at the stars. Santa Claus laughed when he saw the tired little reindeer. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Look, my dear. A reindeer with an olive for a nose! Goodness! Welcome to the North Pole, little one.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing though! We’ll have to call you Olive. Right, Santa?” Santa nodded. “Do you like cookies, Olive?” “I don’t know, ma’am,” she said. “Well, try this,” said Mrs. Claus. She gave Olive a cookie. “It’s raisin and oatmeal fresh from my bakery.” Olive found it tasty. While she nibbled on it, Mrs. Claus tied a blue bow on her head. “There, Olive!” Mrs. Claus said, giving her a big hug. “You just needed a mite sprucing up.” “I hope you can stay a while, Olive,” said Santa. Olive felt she’d never see her family again. She was an orphan. So she decided to make the North Pole her home.
CHAPTER 3
Olive’s Jobs
As the years passed and she got bigger, Olive became one of the best skaters among the spare reindeer. She always won the friendly races against them at Candy Cane Pond. Olive also had important jobs to do during the Christmas season. She looked through the magic telescope to see which boys and girls were naughty or nice, and reported their names to Number One, the chief elf. She hauled boxes of presents to Santa Claus’s sleigh on the runway. She delivered muffins from Mrs. Claus’s bakery to the hospital. In the toy factory she checked for broken toys coming off a line in Quality Control. She liked these jobs, but the job Olive wanted more than anything was to be on Santa’s team. Will I be picked some day? she wondered.
CHAPTER 4
A Foolish Dream
It was Christmas Eve again. As always Olive wished she could go on the Big Trip. Many of her spare reindeer pals had gone. Why not me? she thought. But maybe that was a foolish dream. Only this morning an elf had shouted, “You over there - no, not you, Jingles. The other reindeer. Yes, you, green nose. Give us some help.” But at dusk when Olive got off shift, she began to do some serious thinking. Maybe it wasn’t a foolish dream at all. What did that smart alec elf know anyway? So she decided right then to visit Santa and ask him if she could join the team.
CHAPTER 5
A Meeting With Santa
As she stood in front of Santa’s house, Olive wasn’t so sure of herself. Just who do you think you are? she thought. But she’d come this far so what did she have to lose? All Santa could do
was say no. She hesitated then tapped at Santa’s door. She waited. No answer. She tapped again. No one home. She sighed. “Oh, well, I tried.” Just as Olive was about to leave, the door burst open. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Well, well, look who it is!” Santa said. He had only one boot on. “I’m just getting ready to go over to Mission Control to check things out before the Big Trip. What can I do for you, Olive?” “Hi, Santa. I thought I’d ask if there, uh, was - was -” “Was what, Olive?” “Well, anything I could do.” Santa thought. “No, I can’t think of anything.” “Oh.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well - uh - well -” Olive was tongue-tied. “Please, I’m really in a hurry,” Santa said. “Well?” When he hears what I want he’ll laugh at me, Olive thought. That’s worse than a simple no. She just blinked.
“I can’t think of a thing you could do,” Santa said. “Well, I just thought I’d, you know, ask anyway.” Santa shrugged. “Thank you for asking, Olive.” “You’re welcome, Santa.” She left and Santa scratched his head. “What a strange conversation,” he muttered.
CHAPTER 6
Countdown
Take-off time was ninety-seven minutes away. Best to forget about the Big Trip, Olive felt, by keeping busy. Maybe Mrs. Claus wanted some muffins taken to the hospital. She headed for the bakery. Lovely smells drifted from it: mincemeat tarts, chocolate cakes, jelly doughnuts, date squares, brownies, buns, bread, all kinds of muffins and cookies.
“Hi, Olive. That nose of yours sure works mighty fine,” Mrs. Claus said. “Here’s a nice warm raisin and oatmeal cookie just for you.” “No thank you, Mrs. Claus,” Olive said. “I’m not hungry. I just came over to see if you wanted some muffins taken over to the hospital.” “I’m sorry, we made the muffin delivery this afternoon when you were at the toy factory.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Claus gave Olive a close look. “What’s the matter, Olive? Why the glum looking face?” Olive pawed at the ground. “Well - it’s nothing. Nothing.” Mrs. Claus fixed Olive’s blue bow. It was crooked. “Something is bothering you. Tell me, Olive, don’t be shy with me. We girls have to stick together. What is it?” “It’s nothing, Mrs. Claus. I’d better go now and see if they need me one last time at the toy factory.” Olive trotted off. “You’re my favorite reindeer you know. I’m always around if you need me,” Mrs. Claus called after her.
CHAPTER 7
Too Late
At the toy factory Olive’s best friend, Boomer, the chubby harness elf, sat on a crate by the shipping dock. He munched on a peanut butter sandwich. “Hi, Olive!” Boomer shouted. He liked to shout rather than talk. “Hi, Boomer. Do they need any more help inside?” “Not now. They’re just tying up some loose ends. We’re ready.” “Oh.” She wasn’t needed here either. “What’s eating you, Olive? Huh? You look really sad.” “Well, it’s just that I’d love to go on the Big Trip,” Olive said. “Hey, come on! You’ll make it one day.” “Oh, I don’t know about that, Boomer.” “You will. You’re fast. You always win the races on Candy Cane Pond. And you’re strong too.” “I’m just a nobody. After all these years I’m still called the other reindeer.” “Aw, come on! Mrs. Claus for one doesn’t call you that,” Boomer said. “Tell her what you want.”
“Mrs. Claus doesn’t do the hiring.” “No, but I’m sure she’s got some clout with Santa.” “I just talked to Mrs. Claus and I couldn’t tell her about - about my dream.I just couldn’t.” “Huh? Why not?” “Well - I -” Boomer waved his sandwich in the air. “Sweet potaters, Olive! You can’t just wait for something to happen. And that’s what you’re doing.” “I know, Boomer, I know.” She wouldn’t mention her visit with Santa Claus or Boomer would get really steamed. “But I just don’t like to be - pushy.” Boomer snorted. “Pushy? You really tick me off sometimes. You know that? The squeaky wheel gets the grease. Things won’t come to you. And -” “And what, Boomer?” Boomer stared at his sandwich. “The Big Trip is only eighty-nine minutes away. But I have to say you can forget it just like the other ones. It’s too late.” Olive gulped. Maybe I should have said something to Mrs. Claus, she thought. I’ll be staying behind again.
CHAPTER 8
The Numbers Aren’t Good
Meanwhile Santa Claus, Number One, and Chip, the computer ace, were going over a few things in the Planning Room at Mission Control. They studied a wall map. Mittens, Santa’s orange cat, was on Santa’s shoulders. He seemed interested in the map too. “Santa, the numbers aren’t good,” Chip said. “We have a record number of kids this year and we just don’t have enough reindeer power.” Santa chuckled. “Chip, you worry too much. I have a great team, but we can always add one or two of the spare reindeer.” Mrs. Claus passed by. She cupped her ear to listen. “One or two won’t do it, Santa, even if we had them,” Number One said. “Dr. Winters called me just before you arrived. An odd thing. The spare reindeer are in the hospital sick.” Santa gasped. “Oh, dear! All of them at once? That’s terrible!” “And the sleigh is loaded to overflowing,” Chip said. “If we added any more toys we couldn’t lift off. Lots of toys have to be left behind.” He looked at his calculator. “The numbers aren’t good.” “They certainly aren’t, Chip,” Santa said. “Many places must be missed.” Chip pointed at the map with a baseball bat. “Here, here, and here. And there.” Santa Claus sank into an armchair with his head in his hands. Mittens almost fell off his shoulders. “But we can’t let down any children,” Santa moaned. “We can’t! You’re the computer expert, Chip. Think of something. Anything! We leave in fifty-six minutes. There must be something we can do.” Chip threw up his hands. “There isn’t, Santa, and that’s a fact.” After she heard this, Mrs. Claus hurried over to the hospital.
CHAPTER 9
Blackmail
In the hospital ward the spare reindeer lay in beds. With thermometers in their mouths were Speedy, Jingles, Flash, Igloo, Spinner, Rascal, Bingo, and Pokey. Dr. Winters took out the thermometers and read them. “Hmmm,” he said. “I can’t see anything the matter with any of you.” He looked at his watch. “It’s Christmas Eve with forty-three minutes ’til take-off. What if Santa needs some of you? Then what?” “Then that’ll be too bad,” Pokey stated. “We’re not going back to that gloomy old stable.” “Not until somebody paints it,” said Flash. “Hah! So that’s it,” Dr. Winters said. “Blackmail!” “That’s a mean thing to say,” said Bingo. “But we’re not going back to that stable. So there!” “Get up! Get up!” Dr. Winters yelled. “Where’s your pride? Where’s your courage? Where’s your loyalty? Get up! Immediately! This is nonsense! This is - uh, please. With jam on it. Well?” But the reindeer just snuggled in their beds and answered with snores. They weren’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER 10
Not A Very Nice Idea
Mrs. Claus rushed into the ward. She was alarmed by what she saw. “What’s going on, Doctor?” Dr. Winters shook his head. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, Mrs. Claus. Never in a million years. But what we’ve got here is a bunch of fakers who want to sleep all day long in nice comfy beds. In short, they’re on strike!” Mrs. Claus thought. “I think I’ve got an idea. It’s not a very nice one, but - ” She whispered into Dr. Winters’ ear. The reindeer squinted at them. What were they up to? The doctor held up a needle. He gave it a squirt. The reindeer stirred. “Now this might smart a little, you reindeer, but it’s for your own good,” Dr. Winters said. The reindeer shot up in bed. “Don’t be scared,” Dr. Winters said. “It’ll only take a second.” “I feel a lot better, Dr. Winters,” Jingles said. “M-m-me too,” Pokey stuttered. “See you, Dr. Winters,” said Igloo, bolting for the door. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” said the rest as they clomped after Igloo. Mrs. Claus and Dr. Winters split their sides as the reindeer stampeded down the corridor.
CHAPTER 11
Take-Off
Take-off was seconds away. From the runway red, gold, green, and blue fireworks lit the North Pole sky with fantastic patterns. Two elves at the front of the sleigh blew a trumpet fanfare. Tah-tah tah tah-tah tah tah. Tah-tah. Boomer sprinkled Santa’s reindeer from his bag of magic sparkles. The sparkles gave them the power to fly. Chip and Number One looked on with frowns. Everyone was nervous except for the reindeer. “I’m all set, chief,” said Dasher, and pawed at the ground. “Me too,” said Dancer, and shook his bells. “Let’s go, Santa,” said Comet. From the front of Santa’s team came a red glow and a giggle. The reindeer loved Christmas Eve. Santa didn’t have the heart to tell them thousands of children would be given a miss on this one. He slumped in his sleigh. Even his beard seemed to droop. Olive watched from a rise. Although she wanted to forget about the Big Trip, she just couldn’t help coming to see the show. She especially loved the fireworks. She heard the reindeer’s excited voices. Oh, how she wished she could be one of them. But I’ll always get left behind, she thought. Olive turned away. She’d seen enough. A tear trickled down her cheek. Suddenly there were cries of alarm. And…BANG!
CHAPTER 12
What Boomer Did
The sleigh had crashed. Santa Claus was tossed into a snowbank. The reindeer sprawled on the runway. Boxes of presents were scattered everywhere. Olive galloped to the overturned sleigh. Boomer stood near it. “Oh, no! This is awful!” Olive cried. “What happened, Boomer?” Boomer grinned. “I overloaded the sleigh when nobody was looking. I put a set of barbells across the back of the runners. “What! But why?” “You want to go with them, don’t you?” “Shh! Of course I want to go, but -” “Well, if the team can’t get airborne then you’re in. You’re in!” “But - but -” “Oh-oh!” Boomer clasped his mouth. “Look who’s coming.”
CHAPTER 13
No Time To Lose
Number One marched towards them. His face was red with anger. “I heard all that, Boomer. Oh, Santa! Santa!” he called. “I think there is something you should know.” Santa struggled to his feet and brushed snow off himself. “What’s going on here?” Santa said. “Tell Santa Claus the disgraceful thing you did, Boomer,” Number One ordered. “Go on.” Boomer hung his head. “I overloaded the sleigh with some barbells. I’m sorry, Santa, I really am. But please forget what I did and give Olive a chance to go with you. That’s why I did it. Olive is as fast as greased lightning.” Santa shook his head. The accident had confused him. “Olive?” he said. “Olive?” Then it dawned. “Yes, Olive! I was just talking to you. So you want to help deliver the presents, do you, Olive?” “Oh, yes, Santa. That’s really why I came to see you.” Boomer gave Olive a surprised look. “Huh? You did?” Santa stroked his beard. “So that was it! But why didn’t you say so? Oh, never mind. We’ve got no time to lose. Come along, Olive.” But Olive didn’t move. “I’d love to, Santa, but I don’t think it would be fair to go after this. If not for Boomer, you’d all be in the sky by now.” Boomer clenched his teeth. “Olive, you’re going to blow it.” “Hmm, I see,” Santa said. “I see.” For a while no one knew what to say. Finally Number One spoke up. He’d cooled off. “Santa, may I say something?” he said. “Although I do not approve of such a deed, I think Boomer is a good fellow. He has served us well for many years. Perhaps we can overlook what he did.” Santa nodded. “I agree, Number One. We’ll give Boomer a second chance. So, Olive? Do you want to come? Yes or no?” Olive could hardly believe it. Was her dream about to come true? “Whoopee!” she shouted. “You’ll see I’m really fast and strong, Santa.” Santa’s eyes twinkled. He patted Olive on the head. “Don’t worry, Olive,” Santa said. “I’ve had my eyes on you and I know how fast and strong you are. You were going to be on the team sooner or later. So as of now, you’re officially hired.” Chip joined them. He was studying his calculator and he didn’t look happy. “I hate to be a party pooper, Santa, but this won’t change much,” he said. “With the help of Olive we can make Los Angeles just before sun up. But many other places will still get left out.” Santa sighed. “I know, I know, I hadn’t forgotten, Chip. How could I? All those children will be heart-broken. They’ll never forgive me. But - but there’s nothing we can do.”
CHAPTER 14
Mrs. Claus’s Surprise
At that moment they heard a whistle in the distance. It came from Mrs. Claus. She wore a red-and-white Santa outfit. And she was driving a team made up of the eight spare reindeer. “Hee-hah! Giddy-up, my honeys!” Mrs. Claus urged. The spare reindeer looked as fit as ever. They came at full steam. Snow swirled around their pounding hooves. Santa’s mouth fell open as Mrs. Claus pulled up beside him. “Mrs. Claus! Goodness! What a surprise!” Santa said. “What are you doing here?” “Well, dear, I heard you had a problem,” Mrs. Claus said. “We do, we do. A whopper. But I thought all the spare reindeer were in the hospital.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “They were. Flat on their backs until Dr. Winters came up with a - cure, you might say. And then I did a little wheeling and dealing about giving their stable a new paint job. You really should see it, Santa.” “We can talk about that later, my dear. But right now I’d like to know why you’re here.” “Well, I thought we could load up my sleigh and I’ll - go with you. If you don’t mind.” Santa clapped his hands. “Mind? Why should I mind? That’s a terrific idea! You really want to go, don’t you, my dear?” “It would be a hoot. A real hoot.” “All these years and you’ve never once said anything.” “Well, wouldn’t a passenger have made the sleigh too heavy?” Mrs. Claus said. “So, dear? What do you say?”
CHAPTER 15
The Big Trip
Santa turned to Boomer. “Quick, Boomer! Hitch up Olive to Mrs. Claus’s team. That will give us nine reindeer each.” Boomer saluted. “Right away, Santa!” Boomer hitched Olive in the lead. A dozen elves gathered up the scattered toys. Another dozen brought the ones left over in the toy factory. The sleighs were quickly loaded. Boomer sprinkled Mrs. Claus’s reindeer with the magic sparkles. For a moment the reindeer rose and floated on air. Mrs. Claus’s team was now ready to fly. “Up and at ‘em, Olive!” whooped Mrs. Claus. “Ho-ho! Ho-ho!” Santa winked. “You’ve got the words, my dear, but, well, the tune needs some work.” Then with a merry “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and a “Ho-ho! Ho-ho!” Santa and Mrs. Claus whooshed off into the twinkling stars and over the moon. The elves jumped up and down and cheered the two sleighs in the sky. “Yippee! Yippee!” A few toasted each other with mugs of hot chocolate. As she led Mrs. Claus’s team, Olive held her head up high. All the boys and girls got their presents on time and they were delighted. So was Olive. And she did such a super job that from then on she made the Big Trip with Mrs. Claus every Christmas Eve.
Wolves
The storm in the Barrens raged around the little reindeer with a nose like an olive. “Mommy! Daddy!” She’d lost her mother and father and brothers and sisters. The night wind shrieked. The snowflakes stung her eyes. “Mommy! Daddy! Where are you?” But no one could hear. And now - danger! - wolves. She could smell them. They were close. Maybe they got my family, she thought, and want me too. So the little reindeer ran as fast as she could. In the fierce storm she didn’t know where she was going. She just knew she had to get away. The wolves chased her, but she soon left them far behind. Even when she no longer picked up their scent, she ran and ran. Finally she came to the North Pole.
CHAPTER 2
Mrs. Claus
Gasping for breath, she found herself in front of Santa and Mrs. Claus’s house. Night here was calm and peaceful. She saw them arm in arm on their doorstep. They were looking at the stars. Santa Claus laughed when he saw the tired little reindeer. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Look, my dear. A reindeer with an olive for a nose! Goodness! Welcome to the North Pole, little one.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing though! We’ll have to call you Olive. Right, Santa?” Santa nodded. “Do you like cookies, Olive?” “I don’t know, ma’am,” she said. “Well, try this,” said Mrs. Claus. She gave Olive a cookie. “It’s raisin and oatmeal fresh from my bakery.” Olive found it tasty. While she nibbled on it, Mrs. Claus tied a blue bow on her head. “There, Olive!” Mrs. Claus said, giving her a big hug. “You just needed a mite sprucing up.” “I hope you can stay a while, Olive,” said Santa. Olive felt she’d never see her family again. She was an orphan. So she decided to make the North Pole her home.
CHAPTER 3
Olive’s Jobs
As the years passed and she got bigger, Olive became one of the best skaters among the spare reindeer. She always won the friendly races against them at Candy Cane Pond. Olive also had important jobs to do during the Christmas season. She looked through the magic telescope to see which boys and girls were naughty or nice, and reported their names to Number One, the chief elf. She hauled boxes of presents to Santa Claus’s sleigh on the runway. She delivered muffins from Mrs. Claus’s bakery to the hospital. In the toy factory she checked for broken toys coming off a line in Quality Control. She liked these jobs, but the job Olive wanted more than anything was to be on Santa’s team. Will I be picked some day? she wondered.
CHAPTER 4
A Foolish Dream
It was Christmas Eve again. As always Olive wished she could go on the Big Trip. Many of her spare reindeer pals had gone. Why not me? she thought. But maybe that was a foolish dream. Only this morning an elf had shouted, “You over there - no, not you, Jingles. The other reindeer. Yes, you, green nose. Give us some help.” But at dusk when Olive got off shift, she began to do some serious thinking. Maybe it wasn’t a foolish dream at all. What did that smart alec elf know anyway? So she decided right then to visit Santa and ask him if she could join the team.
CHAPTER 5
A Meeting With Santa
As she stood in front of Santa’s house, Olive wasn’t so sure of herself. Just who do you think you are? she thought. But she’d come this far so what did she have to lose? All Santa could do
was say no. She hesitated then tapped at Santa’s door. She waited. No answer. She tapped again. No one home. She sighed. “Oh, well, I tried.” Just as Olive was about to leave, the door burst open. “Ho! Ho! Ho! Well, well, look who it is!” Santa said. He had only one boot on. “I’m just getting ready to go over to Mission Control to check things out before the Big Trip. What can I do for you, Olive?” “Hi, Santa. I thought I’d ask if there, uh, was - was -” “Was what, Olive?” “Well, anything I could do.” Santa thought. “No, I can’t think of anything.” “Oh.” “What did you have in mind?” “Well - uh - well -” Olive was tongue-tied. “Please, I’m really in a hurry,” Santa said. “Well?” When he hears what I want he’ll laugh at me, Olive thought. That’s worse than a simple no. She just blinked.
“I can’t think of a thing you could do,” Santa said. “Well, I just thought I’d, you know, ask anyway.” Santa shrugged. “Thank you for asking, Olive.” “You’re welcome, Santa.” She left and Santa scratched his head. “What a strange conversation,” he muttered.
CHAPTER 6
Countdown
Take-off time was ninety-seven minutes away. Best to forget about the Big Trip, Olive felt, by keeping busy. Maybe Mrs. Claus wanted some muffins taken to the hospital. She headed for the bakery. Lovely smells drifted from it: mincemeat tarts, chocolate cakes, jelly doughnuts, date squares, brownies, buns, bread, all kinds of muffins and cookies.
“Hi, Olive. That nose of yours sure works mighty fine,” Mrs. Claus said. “Here’s a nice warm raisin and oatmeal cookie just for you.” “No thank you, Mrs. Claus,” Olive said. “I’m not hungry. I just came over to see if you wanted some muffins taken over to the hospital.” “I’m sorry, we made the muffin delivery this afternoon when you were at the toy factory.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Claus gave Olive a close look. “What’s the matter, Olive? Why the glum looking face?” Olive pawed at the ground. “Well - it’s nothing. Nothing.” Mrs. Claus fixed Olive’s blue bow. It was crooked. “Something is bothering you. Tell me, Olive, don’t be shy with me. We girls have to stick together. What is it?” “It’s nothing, Mrs. Claus. I’d better go now and see if they need me one last time at the toy factory.” Olive trotted off. “You’re my favorite reindeer you know. I’m always around if you need me,” Mrs. Claus called after her.
CHAPTER 7
Too Late
At the toy factory Olive’s best friend, Boomer, the chubby harness elf, sat on a crate by the shipping dock. He munched on a peanut butter sandwich. “Hi, Olive!” Boomer shouted. He liked to shout rather than talk. “Hi, Boomer. Do they need any more help inside?” “Not now. They’re just tying up some loose ends. We’re ready.” “Oh.” She wasn’t needed here either. “What’s eating you, Olive? Huh? You look really sad.” “Well, it’s just that I’d love to go on the Big Trip,” Olive said. “Hey, come on! You’ll make it one day.” “Oh, I don’t know about that, Boomer.” “You will. You’re fast. You always win the races on Candy Cane Pond. And you’re strong too.” “I’m just a nobody. After all these years I’m still called the other reindeer.” “Aw, come on! Mrs. Claus for one doesn’t call you that,” Boomer said. “Tell her what you want.”
“Mrs. Claus doesn’t do the hiring.” “No, but I’m sure she’s got some clout with Santa.” “I just talked to Mrs. Claus and I couldn’t tell her about - about my dream.I just couldn’t.” “Huh? Why not?” “Well - I -” Boomer waved his sandwich in the air. “Sweet potaters, Olive! You can’t just wait for something to happen. And that’s what you’re doing.” “I know, Boomer, I know.” She wouldn’t mention her visit with Santa Claus or Boomer would get really steamed. “But I just don’t like to be - pushy.” Boomer snorted. “Pushy? You really tick me off sometimes. You know that? The squeaky wheel gets the grease. Things won’t come to you. And -” “And what, Boomer?” Boomer stared at his sandwich. “The Big Trip is only eighty-nine minutes away. But I have to say you can forget it just like the other ones. It’s too late.” Olive gulped. Maybe I should have said something to Mrs. Claus, she thought. I’ll be staying behind again.
CHAPTER 8
The Numbers Aren’t Good
Meanwhile Santa Claus, Number One, and Chip, the computer ace, were going over a few things in the Planning Room at Mission Control. They studied a wall map. Mittens, Santa’s orange cat, was on Santa’s shoulders. He seemed interested in the map too. “Santa, the numbers aren’t good,” Chip said. “We have a record number of kids this year and we just don’t have enough reindeer power.” Santa chuckled. “Chip, you worry too much. I have a great team, but we can always add one or two of the spare reindeer.” Mrs. Claus passed by. She cupped her ear to listen. “One or two won’t do it, Santa, even if we had them,” Number One said. “Dr. Winters called me just before you arrived. An odd thing. The spare reindeer are in the hospital sick.” Santa gasped. “Oh, dear! All of them at once? That’s terrible!” “And the sleigh is loaded to overflowing,” Chip said. “If we added any more toys we couldn’t lift off. Lots of toys have to be left behind.” He looked at his calculator. “The numbers aren’t good.” “They certainly aren’t, Chip,” Santa said. “Many places must be missed.” Chip pointed at the map with a baseball bat. “Here, here, and here. And there.” Santa Claus sank into an armchair with his head in his hands. Mittens almost fell off his shoulders. “But we can’t let down any children,” Santa moaned. “We can’t! You’re the computer expert, Chip. Think of something. Anything! We leave in fifty-six minutes. There must be something we can do.” Chip threw up his hands. “There isn’t, Santa, and that’s a fact.” After she heard this, Mrs. Claus hurried over to the hospital.
CHAPTER 9
Blackmail
In the hospital ward the spare reindeer lay in beds. With thermometers in their mouths were Speedy, Jingles, Flash, Igloo, Spinner, Rascal, Bingo, and Pokey. Dr. Winters took out the thermometers and read them. “Hmmm,” he said. “I can’t see anything the matter with any of you.” He looked at his watch. “It’s Christmas Eve with forty-three minutes ’til take-off. What if Santa needs some of you? Then what?” “Then that’ll be too bad,” Pokey stated. “We’re not going back to that gloomy old stable.” “Not until somebody paints it,” said Flash. “Hah! So that’s it,” Dr. Winters said. “Blackmail!” “That’s a mean thing to say,” said Bingo. “But we’re not going back to that stable. So there!” “Get up! Get up!” Dr. Winters yelled. “Where’s your pride? Where’s your courage? Where’s your loyalty? Get up! Immediately! This is nonsense! This is - uh, please. With jam on it. Well?” But the reindeer just snuggled in their beds and answered with snores. They weren’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER 10
Not A Very Nice Idea
Mrs. Claus rushed into the ward. She was alarmed by what she saw. “What’s going on, Doctor?” Dr. Winters shook his head. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, Mrs. Claus. Never in a million years. But what we’ve got here is a bunch of fakers who want to sleep all day long in nice comfy beds. In short, they’re on strike!” Mrs. Claus thought. “I think I’ve got an idea. It’s not a very nice one, but - ” She whispered into Dr. Winters’ ear. The reindeer squinted at them. What were they up to? The doctor held up a needle. He gave it a squirt. The reindeer stirred. “Now this might smart a little, you reindeer, but it’s for your own good,” Dr. Winters said. The reindeer shot up in bed. “Don’t be scared,” Dr. Winters said. “It’ll only take a second.” “I feel a lot better, Dr. Winters,” Jingles said. “M-m-me too,” Pokey stuttered. “See you, Dr. Winters,” said Igloo, bolting for the door. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” said the rest as they clomped after Igloo. Mrs. Claus and Dr. Winters split their sides as the reindeer stampeded down the corridor.
CHAPTER 11
Take-Off
Take-off was seconds away. From the runway red, gold, green, and blue fireworks lit the North Pole sky with fantastic patterns. Two elves at the front of the sleigh blew a trumpet fanfare. Tah-tah tah tah-tah tah tah. Tah-tah. Boomer sprinkled Santa’s reindeer from his bag of magic sparkles. The sparkles gave them the power to fly. Chip and Number One looked on with frowns. Everyone was nervous except for the reindeer. “I’m all set, chief,” said Dasher, and pawed at the ground. “Me too,” said Dancer, and shook his bells. “Let’s go, Santa,” said Comet. From the front of Santa’s team came a red glow and a giggle. The reindeer loved Christmas Eve. Santa didn’t have the heart to tell them thousands of children would be given a miss on this one. He slumped in his sleigh. Even his beard seemed to droop. Olive watched from a rise. Although she wanted to forget about the Big Trip, she just couldn’t help coming to see the show. She especially loved the fireworks. She heard the reindeer’s excited voices. Oh, how she wished she could be one of them. But I’ll always get left behind, she thought. Olive turned away. She’d seen enough. A tear trickled down her cheek. Suddenly there were cries of alarm. And…BANG!
CHAPTER 12
What Boomer Did
The sleigh had crashed. Santa Claus was tossed into a snowbank. The reindeer sprawled on the runway. Boxes of presents were scattered everywhere. Olive galloped to the overturned sleigh. Boomer stood near it. “Oh, no! This is awful!” Olive cried. “What happened, Boomer?” Boomer grinned. “I overloaded the sleigh when nobody was looking. I put a set of barbells across the back of the runners. “What! But why?” “You want to go with them, don’t you?” “Shh! Of course I want to go, but -” “Well, if the team can’t get airborne then you’re in. You’re in!” “But - but -” “Oh-oh!” Boomer clasped his mouth. “Look who’s coming.”
CHAPTER 13
No Time To Lose
Number One marched towards them. His face was red with anger. “I heard all that, Boomer. Oh, Santa! Santa!” he called. “I think there is something you should know.” Santa struggled to his feet and brushed snow off himself. “What’s going on here?” Santa said. “Tell Santa Claus the disgraceful thing you did, Boomer,” Number One ordered. “Go on.” Boomer hung his head. “I overloaded the sleigh with some barbells. I’m sorry, Santa, I really am. But please forget what I did and give Olive a chance to go with you. That’s why I did it. Olive is as fast as greased lightning.” Santa shook his head. The accident had confused him. “Olive?” he said. “Olive?” Then it dawned. “Yes, Olive! I was just talking to you. So you want to help deliver the presents, do you, Olive?” “Oh, yes, Santa. That’s really why I came to see you.” Boomer gave Olive a surprised look. “Huh? You did?” Santa stroked his beard. “So that was it! But why didn’t you say so? Oh, never mind. We’ve got no time to lose. Come along, Olive.” But Olive didn’t move. “I’d love to, Santa, but I don’t think it would be fair to go after this. If not for Boomer, you’d all be in the sky by now.” Boomer clenched his teeth. “Olive, you’re going to blow it.” “Hmm, I see,” Santa said. “I see.” For a while no one knew what to say. Finally Number One spoke up. He’d cooled off. “Santa, may I say something?” he said. “Although I do not approve of such a deed, I think Boomer is a good fellow. He has served us well for many years. Perhaps we can overlook what he did.” Santa nodded. “I agree, Number One. We’ll give Boomer a second chance. So, Olive? Do you want to come? Yes or no?” Olive could hardly believe it. Was her dream about to come true? “Whoopee!” she shouted. “You’ll see I’m really fast and strong, Santa.” Santa’s eyes twinkled. He patted Olive on the head. “Don’t worry, Olive,” Santa said. “I’ve had my eyes on you and I know how fast and strong you are. You were going to be on the team sooner or later. So as of now, you’re officially hired.” Chip joined them. He was studying his calculator and he didn’t look happy. “I hate to be a party pooper, Santa, but this won’t change much,” he said. “With the help of Olive we can make Los Angeles just before sun up. But many other places will still get left out.” Santa sighed. “I know, I know, I hadn’t forgotten, Chip. How could I? All those children will be heart-broken. They’ll never forgive me. But - but there’s nothing we can do.”
CHAPTER 14
Mrs. Claus’s Surprise
At that moment they heard a whistle in the distance. It came from Mrs. Claus. She wore a red-and-white Santa outfit. And she was driving a team made up of the eight spare reindeer. “Hee-hah! Giddy-up, my honeys!” Mrs. Claus urged. The spare reindeer looked as fit as ever. They came at full steam. Snow swirled around their pounding hooves. Santa’s mouth fell open as Mrs. Claus pulled up beside him. “Mrs. Claus! Goodness! What a surprise!” Santa said. “What are you doing here?” “Well, dear, I heard you had a problem,” Mrs. Claus said. “We do, we do. A whopper. But I thought all the spare reindeer were in the hospital.” Mrs. Claus smiled. “They were. Flat on their backs until Dr. Winters came up with a - cure, you might say. And then I did a little wheeling and dealing about giving their stable a new paint job. You really should see it, Santa.” “We can talk about that later, my dear. But right now I’d like to know why you’re here.” “Well, I thought we could load up my sleigh and I’ll - go with you. If you don’t mind.” Santa clapped his hands. “Mind? Why should I mind? That’s a terrific idea! You really want to go, don’t you, my dear?” “It would be a hoot. A real hoot.” “All these years and you’ve never once said anything.” “Well, wouldn’t a passenger have made the sleigh too heavy?” Mrs. Claus said. “So, dear? What do you say?”
CHAPTER 15
The Big Trip
Santa turned to Boomer. “Quick, Boomer! Hitch up Olive to Mrs. Claus’s team. That will give us nine reindeer each.” Boomer saluted. “Right away, Santa!” Boomer hitched Olive in the lead. A dozen elves gathered up the scattered toys. Another dozen brought the ones left over in the toy factory. The sleighs were quickly loaded. Boomer sprinkled Mrs. Claus’s reindeer with the magic sparkles. For a moment the reindeer rose and floated on air. Mrs. Claus’s team was now ready to fly. “Up and at ‘em, Olive!” whooped Mrs. Claus. “Ho-ho! Ho-ho!” Santa winked. “You’ve got the words, my dear, but, well, the tune needs some work.” Then with a merry “Ho! Ho! Ho!” and a “Ho-ho! Ho-ho!” Santa and Mrs. Claus whooshed off into the twinkling stars and over the moon. The elves jumped up and down and cheered the two sleighs in the sky. “Yippee! Yippee!” A few toasted each other with mugs of hot chocolate. As she led Mrs. Claus’s team, Olive held her head up high. All the boys and girls got their presents on time and they were delighted. So was Olive. And she did such a super job that from then on she made the Big Trip with Mrs. Claus every Christmas Eve.
Friday, November 21, 2008
A Christmas Carol
by Charles Dickens
Once upon a time -- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already -- it had not been light all day -- and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale.
The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.
'A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.
'Bah!' said Scrooge, 'Humbug!'
He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.
'Christmas a humbug, uncle!' said Scrooge's nephew. 'You don't mean that, I am sure?'
'I do,' said Scrooge. 'Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.'
'Come, then,' returned the nephew gaily. 'What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough.'
Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, 'Bah!' again; and followed it up with 'Humbug!'
'Don't be cross, uncle.' said the nephew.
'What else can I be,' returned the uncle, 'when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in them through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,' said Scrooge indignantly,'every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!'
'Uncle!' pleaded the nephew.
'Nephew!' returned the uncle, sternly, 'keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.'
'Keep it!' repeated Scrooge's nephew. 'But you don't keep it.'
'Let me leave it alone, then,' said Scrooge. 'Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!'
'There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,' returned the nephew. 'Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that-as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!'
The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever.
'Let me hear another sound from you,' said Scrooge, 'and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation! You're quite a powerful speaker, sir,' he added, turning to his nephew. 'I wonder you don't go into Parliament.'
'Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow.'
Scrooge said that he would see him-yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first.
'But why?' cried Scrooge's nephew. 'Why?'
'Why did you get married?' said Scrooge.
'Because I fell in love.'
'Because you fell in love!' growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. 'Good afternoon!'
'Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?'
'Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.
'I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?'
Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.
'I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!'
'Good afternoon.' said Scrooge.
'And A Happy New Year!'
'Good afternoon!' said Scrooge.
His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greeting of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially.
Once upon a time -- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve -- old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was cold, bleak, biting weather: foggy withal: and he could hear the people in the court outside, go wheezing up and down, beating their hands upon their breasts, and stamping their feet upon the pavement stones to warm them. The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already -- it had not been light all day -- and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighbouring offices, like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole, and was so dense without, that although the court was of the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. To see the dingy cloud come drooping down, obscuring everything, one might have thought that Nature lived hard by, and was brewing on a large scale.
The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open that he might keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort of tank was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But he couldn't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his own room; and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel, the master predicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the candle; in which effort, not being a man of a strong imagination, he failed.
'A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of his approach.
'Bah!' said Scrooge, 'Humbug!'
He had so heated himself with rapid walking in the fog and frost, this nephew of Scrooge's, that he was all in a glow; his face was ruddy and handsome; his eyes sparkled, and his breath smoked again.
'Christmas a humbug, uncle!' said Scrooge's nephew. 'You don't mean that, I am sure?'
'I do,' said Scrooge. 'Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry? You're poor enough.'
'Come, then,' returned the nephew gaily. 'What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough.'
Scrooge having no better answer ready on the spur of the moment, said, 'Bah!' again; and followed it up with 'Humbug!'
'Don't be cross, uncle.' said the nephew.
'What else can I be,' returned the uncle, 'when I live in such a world of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in them through a round dozen of months presented dead against you? If I could work my will,' said Scrooge indignantly,'every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!'
'Uncle!' pleaded the nephew.
'Nephew!' returned the uncle, sternly, 'keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.'
'Keep it!' repeated Scrooge's nephew. 'But you don't keep it.'
'Let me leave it alone, then,' said Scrooge. 'Much good may it do you! Much good it has ever done you!'
'There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,' returned the nephew. 'Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round -apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that-as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!'
The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. Becoming immediately sensible of the impropriety, he poked the fire, and extinguished the last frail spark for ever.
'Let me hear another sound from you,' said Scrooge, 'and you'll keep your Christmas by losing your situation! You're quite a powerful speaker, sir,' he added, turning to his nephew. 'I wonder you don't go into Parliament.'
'Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us tomorrow.'
Scrooge said that he would see him-yes, indeed he did. He went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see him in that extremity first.
'But why?' cried Scrooge's nephew. 'Why?'
'Why did you get married?' said Scrooge.
'Because I fell in love.'
'Because you fell in love!' growled Scrooge, as if that were the only one thing in the world more ridiculous than a merry Christmas. 'Good afternoon!'
'Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?'
'Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.
'I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why cannot we be friends?'
Good afternoon,' said Scrooge.
'I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party. But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last. So A Merry Christmas, uncle!'
'Good afternoon.' said Scrooge.
'And A Happy New Year!'
'Good afternoon!' said Scrooge.
His nephew left the room without an angry word, notwithstanding. He stopped at the outer door to bestow the greeting of the season on the clerk, who, cold as he was, was warmer than Scrooge; for he returned them cordially.
The Gift of the Magi
by O. Henry
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."
The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade.
"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
Twas the Night before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
A Christmas Poem
Snowflakes softly falling
Upon your window when they play
Your blankets slung around you
Into sleep you drift away
I bend to gently kiss you
when I see you on the floor
there's a letter dearly written
I wonder who it's for
I quietly unfold it
making sure you're still asleep
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep
It started just as always
with the toys seen on TV
a new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me
But as my eyes read on
I could see that deep inside
there were many things you wished for
that your loving heart would hide
You asked if your friend Molly
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her
and it makes you very sad
Then you asked dear Santa
if the neighbors down the street
could find a job that he migh have
some food, and clothes, and heat
You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away
"Dear Santa send them one thing
a place where they can stay"
"And Santa, those four cookies that
I left you for a treat,
could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat?"
"Do you know that little bear I have
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you to take
to Africa this year."
"And as you fly your reindeer
on this night of Jesus' birth,
Could you magic bring to everyone
goodwill and peace on earth"
"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be,
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus
in the manger by our tree"
I pulled the letter close to me
I felt it melt my heart
Those timy hands had written
what no other could impart.
"And a little child shall lead them"
wasa whispered in my ear
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was there.
Upon your window when they play
Your blankets slung around you
Into sleep you drift away
I bend to gently kiss you
when I see you on the floor
there's a letter dearly written
I wonder who it's for
I quietly unfold it
making sure you're still asleep
It's a Christmas list for Santa
one my heart will always keep
It started just as always
with the toys seen on TV
a new watch for your father
and a winter coat for me
But as my eyes read on
I could see that deep inside
there were many things you wished for
that your loving heart would hide
You asked if your friend Molly
could have another Dad;
It seems her father hits her
and it makes you very sad
Then you asked dear Santa
if the neighbors down the street
could find a job that he migh have
some food, and clothes, and heat
You saw a family on the news
whose house had blown away
"Dear Santa send them one thing
a place where they can stay"
"And Santa, those four cookies that
I left you for a treat,
could you take them to the children
who have nothing else to eat?"
"Do you know that little bear I have
the one I love so dear?
I'm leaving it for you to take
to Africa this year."
"And as you fly your reindeer
on this night of Jesus' birth,
Could you magic bring to everyone
goodwill and peace on earth"
"There's one last thing before you go,
so grateful I would be,
If you'd smile at Baby Jesus
in the manger by our tree"
I pulled the letter close to me
I felt it melt my heart
Those timy hands had written
what no other could impart.
"And a little child shall lead them"
wasa whispered in my ear
As I watched you sleep on Christmas Eve
while Santa Claus was there.
Christmas Angels
The Whittles lived in Humbleburg,
As poor as poor can be,
But all their neighbors loved them,
For their generosity.
For though the Whittles' shelves were bare,
Their cottage tumbledown,
When Christmas came they made a toy,
For every child in town.
One Christmas Eve they climbed in bed,
After all the toys were made;
And while they dreamed of better times,
The Whittles were repaid.
That night three Christmas angels came,
To give them a reward --
For heaven won't let any act
Of kindness be ignored.
One angel searched the cupboard
And found just a crust of bread;
"Now, this won't do", she whispered,
"Let's prepare a feast instead!"
The angels flapped their magic wings,
As only they are able,
And in a flash a flood of food
Filled all the shelves and table!
The tiny house still looked quite drab,
It needed to be cheered;
And as the angels waved their wings,
A Christmas tree appeared!
Two angels trimmed the pretty tree;
The third flew to and fro,
Hanging bells and holly boughs,
And sprigs of mistletoe.
Outside, the angels dressed the house
With icicles and snow,
And on the door they placed a wreath,
Complete with a bright red bow!
They finished all they came to do,
Before the break of day,
And as the Whittles roused from sleep,
The angels flew away.
Now, when the Whittles saw the food
And all the decoration,
They pinched themselves and wept for joy,
Then danced in celebration!
As word spread through the village
Of their heaven-sent surprise;
Every Humbleburger came
To see with their own two eyes!
The Whittles shared their Christmas feast-
They emptied all the shelves;
Their kindness wouldn't let them keep
Good fortune to themselves.
When everyone had cleaned their plate,
They all joined in a song;
And up above-though no one heard-
The angels sang along!
As poor as poor can be,
But all their neighbors loved them,
For their generosity.
For though the Whittles' shelves were bare,
Their cottage tumbledown,
When Christmas came they made a toy,
For every child in town.
One Christmas Eve they climbed in bed,
After all the toys were made;
And while they dreamed of better times,
The Whittles were repaid.
That night three Christmas angels came,
To give them a reward --
For heaven won't let any act
Of kindness be ignored.
One angel searched the cupboard
And found just a crust of bread;
"Now, this won't do", she whispered,
"Let's prepare a feast instead!"
The angels flapped their magic wings,
As only they are able,
And in a flash a flood of food
Filled all the shelves and table!
The tiny house still looked quite drab,
It needed to be cheered;
And as the angels waved their wings,
A Christmas tree appeared!
Two angels trimmed the pretty tree;
The third flew to and fro,
Hanging bells and holly boughs,
And sprigs of mistletoe.
Outside, the angels dressed the house
With icicles and snow,
And on the door they placed a wreath,
Complete with a bright red bow!
They finished all they came to do,
Before the break of day,
And as the Whittles roused from sleep,
The angels flew away.
Now, when the Whittles saw the food
And all the decoration,
They pinched themselves and wept for joy,
Then danced in celebration!
As word spread through the village
Of their heaven-sent surprise;
Every Humbleburger came
To see with their own two eyes!
The Whittles shared their Christmas feast-
They emptied all the shelves;
Their kindness wouldn't let them keep
Good fortune to themselves.
When everyone had cleaned their plate,
They all joined in a song;
And up above-though no one heard-
The angels sang along!
Ring out, wild bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Santa,s Secret Wish
On Christmas Eve,
a young boy with light in his eyes,
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise,
And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee,
"I want your secret, tell it to me."
He leaned up & whispered in Santa's good ear,
"How do you do it, year after year?"
"I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts here & there, you never run out.
How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys,
You have plenty for all of the world's girls & boys?
Stays so full, never empties as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large & small,
From nation to nation, reaching them all?
And Santa smiled kindly & said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions.
Don't you want a toy?"
But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me,"
He told the small boy with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder & wise.
"The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.
But although I do visit each girl & each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad.
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, & children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?
"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives,
toys aren't enough.
So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl & boy,
And pray with them that they'll be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not,
but gives.
If only God hears me & answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace,
and with giving, and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.
It's a very had task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some,
and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts,
the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer.
The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic, And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could e'er give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
'Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes.
Not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
"And do you know something?
You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.
It never gets empty, it's full from the start.
It's the centre of lights, and of love. It's your heart.
And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with your gifts
'neath your tree.
Open that sack, call your heart, & share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."
The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going."
"Wait, little boy," said Santa "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help?
Will you use what you know?"
And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand & whispered,
"I will."
a young boy with light in his eyes,
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise,
And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee,
"I want your secret, tell it to me."
He leaned up & whispered in Santa's good ear,
"How do you do it, year after year?"
"I want to know how, as you travel about,
Giving gifts here & there, you never run out.
How is it, dear Santa, that in your pack of toys,
You have plenty for all of the world's girls & boys?
Stays so full, never empties as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large & small,
From nation to nation, reaching them all?
And Santa smiled kindly & said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions.
Don't you want a toy?"
But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
That he needed the answer. "Now listen to me,"
He told the small boy with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder & wise.
"The truth is that my sack is magic. Inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.
But although I do visit each girl & each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad.
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, & children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?
"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where despair lives,
toys aren't enough.
So I tiptoe in, kiss each girl & boy,
And pray with them that they'll be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not,
but gives.
If only God hears me & answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace,
and with giving, and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.
It's a very had task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some,
and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts,
the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer.
The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic, And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve day
More love than a Santa could e'er give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
'Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes.
Not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
"And do you know something?
You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.
It never gets empty, it's full from the start.
It's the centre of lights, and of love. It's your heart.
And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with your gifts
'neath your tree.
Open that sack, call your heart, & share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care."
The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going."
"Wait, little boy," said Santa "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help?
Will you use what you know?"
And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand & whispered,
"I will."
Christmas Bells
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Christmas Recipes
Christmas recipes always include terrific holiday offerings which make a great appetizer. There are huge collection of books and articles on Christmas Recipes that one can find. Christmas cookies, Christmas Candy, Christmas Cakes and many other delicious dishes are specially made on Christmas Eve. Various Christmas recipes make a great addition to the table and it is a holiday tradition for families to get together and try out new Christmas recipes each year
Families usually have their favorites, whether it's chocolate chip, shortbread or pinwheels. They make great gifts when you combine them with other items. One can make a great gift by tyeing colorful ribbon on the Christmas recipe instructions or Christmas Recipes cook book.
Christmas Candy
It is great fun to make Christmas candy as most homemade candy lasts quite a long time, and has the added benefit of being custom made.
more about Christmas Candy
Christmas Cookies
Christmas cookies are more than just baked goods as these help to stay connected to all loved ones and to friends and family around the world.
more about Christmas Cookies
Chirstmas cakes
Decorative Christmas cake is ideal for anyone looking to start the festive season of Christmas. Christmas cakes are the most adorable cakes which all children as well as grown up love and appreciate.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Christmas shopping
December is the critical period for Christmas shopping. As Christmas starts approaching, shoppers as well as retailers get nervous. The buyers start preparing themselves to avoid common Christmas shopping miseries that can catch out even the most professional shopper. On must avoide impulse buying. Before actually paying up for any item, the shoppers must stand back, take a deep breath, and think of who you are buying the presents for.
Come Christmas, shopping, which is ordinarily one of the most joyous of events for womankind everywhere, suddenly becomes appealing to one and all. The idea of piling into the shops with thousands of shoppers all scrabbling to get hold of a heartfelt gift is quite enthusiastic. But there are few things that can be kept in mind before Christmas Shopping so as to avoid the unnecessary hassels that accompany this activity.
Christmas decorations
There can be no Christmas without Christmas decorations! Decors evoke Christmas sentiments among children and grown-ups.
Christmas decorations date all the way back to the old Christmas markets in 16th century Germany. In those days, Christmas food, such as sugar rods, honey cakes, and other Christmas candy, were particularly used as Christmas decorations. In the 18th century, many other kinds of Christmas decorations became popular. Among them were glazed paper, colored paper, and those which contain candies, nuts, cakes, raisins, and fruits.
Christmas decorations date all the way back to the old Christmas markets in 16th century Germany. In those days, Christmas food, such as sugar rods, honey cakes, and other Christmas candy, were particularly used as Christmas decorations. In the 18th century, many other kinds of Christmas decorations became popular. Among them were glazed paper, colored paper, and those which contain candies, nuts, cakes, raisins, and fruits.
Christmas bells
Christmas bells are best known for jolly, cheerful tones that welcome auspicious festival season. Today, different kinds of bells are available to make the season scintillating and commonly used in Christmas celebrations and activities.
Angels
As early as the mid-1880’s, using angels as Christmas decorations became widespread. Angles are associated with the Christian culture, but are also known in Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism, and Judaism, where angels or beings similar to angels are used as messengers.
Christmas candles
To decorate the Christmas tree with Christmas candles is a tradition that dates back to the 16th century – the time when the Christmas tree was first brought into a living room. The candle symbolizes life and joy in a dark time, and is perfect for Christmas.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Christmas balls
As far back as three hundred years ago, glass balls were already used as Christmas decorations. Today, the big, shiny balls of thin plastic or glass are used. They were originally invented in Germany. balls
Tinsel
In 1610, tinsel was invented in Germany and was made from genuine silver. Machines that shredded silver into thin tinsel-sized strips were invented. However, since silver tinsel tarnishes and loses its shine over time, people eventually created artificial replacements. It must be noted that the original inventor of tinsel remains unknown.
Christmas ledgends and tradition
'Merry Christmas!' evokes a feeling of warmth and happiness that encompasses the world in a thread of love and oneness as preached by the Lord Christ who took birth on this day. There are many traditions that have become associated with this festival over time such as Christmas tree, Star and Santa Claus that have their own significance and role to play in the Christmas celebration. An accumulation of the practices of at least half a dozen cultures over the centuries, all the Christmas traditions have their own sentiments and meanings and are symbolic of liveliness and harmony of the season.
Santa Claus
Father Christmas or Santa Claus is the favorite of all children on Christmas. The big fat belly, cheerful red color and snow-white beard with that sweet perpetual smile and 'Ho-Ho-Ho' makes this character instantly lovable to kids and adults alike. Children peep our of windows in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Santa on his reindeer sleigh with Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer and number of bags full of toys for good children all over the world. They also hope to see Elvin, the favorite and hard-working elf of Santa, who looks after Santa's Rudolf accompanying him on his ride. They wait for the Christmas presents from Santa, which they believe they will find in their stockings or hanging from pillowcases.
Children take pains to decorate their Christmas present list for Santa and keep it on the windowsill with sugar, cookies, pies and drinks to attract the attention of Santa to it and treat him in return for his kindness. Kids never miss out on checking the gifts Santa brings them on the Christmas night and love to cuddle the big fat Santa in his red suit as he hands candies to the little kids. It is said that the custom of Santa Claus was started after the life of Saint Nicholas, a generous and kind-hearted saint who loved children and was always eager to help poor and the downtrodden. It is said that one Christmas night, he saw a poor father and his three daughters crying for they were so poor that they had eaten nothing for the whole day and could not afford dowry for the girls' marriage. Thus, Nicholas threw three bags of gold from the chimney that fell in the stocking of each girl and brought happiness into their lives forever.
Christmas Tree
An ornamented and illuminated Christmas tree has its own attraction during Christmas as everybody keeps straying around it, if just to get a peek of the little treasure of gifts accumulated at its base. It symbolizes warmth, love and happiness of the festive season. Martin Luther, the German monk and the famous church reformer has been credited with the indoor tree decorations. It is said that once while he was wandering through the woods, he saw the dew glistening like stars on the fir trees. He was so mesmerized by the beauty that he brought a small tree to his home and tried to recreate the splendor by lighting up little candles on it.
In the Middle Ages, evergreen trees in home or near home symbolized hope for Spring for Germans and Scandinavians. Later it came to be symbolized as life in Europe and other parts of the world and was thus adopted as Christmas symbol. There is an interesting legend associating it with the birth of Jesus Christ. On the night when Jesus was born, all creatures contributed gifts to be taken to Bethlehem. While olive tree provided its fruit and palm tree came up with dates, fir tree was at loss and was distressed, as it could offer nothing to the newborn king. So an angel took pity on the poor tree and decorated it with stars. Baby Jesus was pleased to see the lighted tree. Since then, it has become a custom to decorate the fir tree on Christmas.
Poinsettia
A much-beloved star-shaped flower of the United States, Poinsettia has a bright red color. Also termed as 'Flower of the Holy Night' or the 'Flame Leaf', the botanic name of this plant is Euphorbia Pulcherrima. It was named 'Poinsettia' by German botanist, Wilenow, which means 'very beautiful'. According to a Mexican legend, a girl named Maria and her little brother Pablo were so poor that they had nothing to take as a gift to the Baby Jesus in the manger scene set up in the village church during the Christmas festival. They were sad and distressed and while on the way to the church to attend the service, they decided to gather a handful of common weeds as a gift to Christ and made them into a small bouquet.
Touched by their sincerity and devotion and the courage with which they took their humble gift to the church despite of the teasing of other village children, an angel took pity on them and blessed them. Maria and Pablo quietly placed the green plants around the manger with all the heart and to everybody's surprise, a miracle happened then and there and the green top leaves turned into bright red petals to make beautiful star-like flowers. All who witnessed the scene was touched by the kindness of the great Lord and devotion of the children.
Touched by their sincerity and devotion and the courage with which they took their humble gift to the church despite of the teasing of other village children, an angel took pity on them and blessed them. Maria and Pablo quietly placed the green plants around the manger with all the heart and to everybody's surprise, a miracle happened then and there and the green top leaves turned into bright red petals to make beautiful star-like flowers. All who witnessed the scene was touched by the kindness of the great Lord and devotion of the children.
Christmas Star
It is said that a brightly shining star that had miraculously appeared in the eastern sky guided the magi (the three wise men from the East) to the newborn king. Astronomers ruled out the possibility of a meteor that burns up in seconds or a comet because according to their calculation, no comets cross the earth's path around the time of Christ's birth. However, since the magi were also the astrologers of their time, they may have made calculations and interpreted them to predict that a divine soul was to be born on the Jewish land. Now people adorn the churches and homes during Christmas with star as a holy sign that symbolizes high hopes, good fortune and happiness in their lives.
According to some stargazers, if we put the birth of Jesus in springtime of 6 B.C., then perhaps we may account for the said star as the triangle of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn planets that had come close together at that time to form the constellation of Pisces, considered specially auspicious by Jewish rabbis. However, some keep themselves aloof from all logic and just believe it to be a miracle and today, the world usually begins the Christian holiday with the appearance of the first star of Christmas Eve. Poland celebrates the Festival of the Star, where the priest acts as the 'Star Man' to test the children's knowledge of religion just after the Christmas Eve meal. Alaskan boys and girls carry a star shaped figure from house to house singing carols on Christmas and receive treats in turn. In Hungary, a star-shaped pattern is carved on one half of the apple is considered a good luck charm.
According to some stargazers, if we put the birth of Jesus in springtime of 6 B.C., then perhaps we may account for the said star as the triangle of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn planets that had come close together at that time to form the constellation of Pisces, considered specially auspicious by Jewish rabbis. However, some keep themselves aloof from all logic and just believe it to be a miracle and today, the world usually begins the Christian holiday with the appearance of the first star of Christmas Eve. Poland celebrates the Festival of the Star, where the priest acts as the 'Star Man' to test the children's knowledge of religion just after the Christmas Eve meal. Alaskan boys and girls carry a star shaped figure from house to house singing carols on Christmas and receive treats in turn. In Hungary, a star-shaped pattern is carved on one half of the apple is considered a good luck charm.
christmas gifts
Christmas teaches us to care about our loved ones, our friends and relatives, our enemies and foes, strangers, poor and downtrodden alike. It binds us in one spirit of hope, love and faith. Giving and receiving gifts is not about money but about the thoughts that you gave in to select the gift. The tradition can be traced back to the birth of Christ. According to the legend, the three wise men or magi from the East brought expensive and precious gifts for the baby Jesus and get his blessings as the newborn king. It is said that one of them brought gold as the symbol of royal splendor to crown the baby as King of the kings. Another brought frankincense with him, which could only be offered to the brazen alter in front of the Holy of Holies and on the Day of Atonement and was thus a special gift too. The last of them brought myrrh, the burial ointment with cleansing qualities to represent the purpose of Jesus Christ as the Savior of all the sinners of the world.
There were shepherds and people from all walks of life who brought anything that they could afford as a gift and the child blessed him, not according to the cost of the gift but by the depth of love and devotion behind the gift. Today, people share their happiness and merriment with each other on Christmas as they wrap the gifts with flashy and decorated colored papers and send it to them with the good wishes. The gifts may vary according to the age, choice and status of the person in life but it is the thought that counts. Besides, nothing equals the excitement of opening up the gifts at the midnight hour as people pick up their gifts from the bottom of the tree and eagerly see what is their in store for them.
There were shepherds and people from all walks of life who brought anything that they could afford as a gift and the child blessed him, not according to the cost of the gift but by the depth of love and devotion behind the gift. Today, people share their happiness and merriment with each other on Christmas as they wrap the gifts with flashy and decorated colored papers and send it to them with the good wishes. The gifts may vary according to the age, choice and status of the person in life but it is the thought that counts. Besides, nothing equals the excitement of opening up the gifts at the midnight hour as people pick up their gifts from the bottom of the tree and eagerly see what is their in store for them.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Evolution of the World's most prominent "gift -giver."
The whole persona of Santa Claus is well etched out and is a very attractive icon of children. Christmas is a festivity most awaited by children and this has immensely helped in the survival of the legends of Saint Nicholas or Santa Claus and particularly his reputation as a bringer of gifts. The American version of St. Nicholas, or Santa Claus originally came from the Dutch version called Sint Klaas. The Dutch settlers in New York brought this fun and lively tradition to America.
The Persona
This version of Santa has given the current myth its visual form and some very curious traditions. A merry old man with red and white clothes, along with eight flying reindeer, which is later joined by Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. The home of Santa Clause is located on or near the North Pole and he is in habit of filling socks or stockings with presents on the night of December 24th. Santa Claus is also said to possess the habit of entering houses through the chimney.
The Real Saint Nicholas
The basis for the Santa Claus is Bishop Nicholas of Smyrna (Izmir), in what is now Turkey. Nicholas lived in the 4th century A.D. He was very rich, generous, and loving toward children. Often he gave joy to poor children by throwing gifts in through their windows. The modern day image of Santa Clause has been very much evolved and has attained a commercial status. But nonetheless this image has still preserved the essence of the old cult. Actually the old "cult" of Santa Claus incorporates many traditions: Christian and Pagan, Old Catholic, Scandinavian, Dutch, German and English.
The 12 days of Christmas
The feast was initially based on, and viewed as a fulfillment of the Jewish Feast of Lights known as Chanukah. This was fixed on January 6 , but over time the western churches decided to celebrate Christmas on December 25. The eastern churches continued to treat January 6 as the day marking Jesus's birth. This has given rise in the west to the notion of a twelve day festival, starting on December 25 and ending on January 6, called the twelve days of Christmas.
The 12 Days of Christmas" is in a sense an allegory. Each of the items in the song represents something significant to the teachings of the Catholic faith. The hidden meaning of each gift was designed to help Catholic children learn their faith. The song goes, "On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…" The "true love" mentioned in the song refers to God Himself. The "me" who receives the presents refers to every baptized person. i.e. the Church.
The 12 Days of Christmas" is in a sense an allegory. Each of the items in the song represents something significant to the teachings of the Catholic faith. The hidden meaning of each gift was designed to help Catholic children learn their faith. The song goes, "On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…" The "true love" mentioned in the song refers to God Himself. The "me" who receives the presents refers to every baptized person. i.e. the Church.
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me 
Partridge in a pear tree.
Partridge in a pear tree. The partridge in a pear tree is Christ Jesus upon the Cross.
On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Two Turtle Doves
The "two turtle doves" refers to the Old and New Testaments. Two Turtle Doves On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Three French hens
The "three French hens" stand for faith, hope and love.
Three French hensThe "three French hens" stand for faith, hope and love.
On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Four Calling Birds
Four Calling BirdsThe "four calling birds" refers to the four evangelists who wrote the Gospels-Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.
On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Five Golden Rings.
Five Golden Rings. The "five golden rings" represents the first five books of the Bible, also called the Jewish Torah: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy.
On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Six Geese a-laying.
Six Geese a-laying. The "six geese a-laying" is the six days of creation.
On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Seven Swans a-swimming,
Seven Swans a-swimming,The "seven swans a-swimming" refers to the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord.
On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eight Maids a-milking,
The "eight maids a milking " reminded children of the eight beatitudes listed in the Sermon on the Mount.
Eight Maids a-milking,The "eight maids a milking " reminded children of the eight beatitudes listed in the Sermon on the Mount.
On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Nine Ladies Dancing,
The "nine ladies dancing" were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit found in Galatians: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.
Nine Ladies Dancing,The "nine ladies dancing" were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit found in Galatians: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.
On the tenth of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Ten Lords a-leaping,
The "ten lords a-leaping" represents the Ten Commandments.
Ten Lords a-leaping,The "ten lords a-leaping" represents the Ten Commandments.
On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Eleven Pipers Piping
The "eleven pipers piping" refers to the eleven faithful apostles.
Eleven Pipers PipingThe "eleven pipers piping" refers to the eleven faithful apostles.
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Twelve Drummers Drumming,
The 'twelve drummers drumming" were the twelve points of belief expressed in the Apostles' Creed: belief in God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, that Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary, made man, crucified, died and arose on the third day, that he sits at the right hand of the father and will come again, the resurrection of the dead and life everlasting.
The 'twelve drummers drumming" were the twelve points of belief expressed in the Apostles' Creed: belief in God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, that Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary, made man, crucified, died and arose on the third day, that he sits at the right hand of the father and will come again, the resurrection of the dead and life everlasting.
Christmas Eve
Christmas Eve is celebrated a day before Christmas, i.e. on 24th December.
It is considered to be the day when the churches and homes are decorated traditionally. It is said that Christmas basically starts when the sun sets on December 24th. Planning dinners on Christmas Eve is a tradition that is carried on till date. There are many ideas given here to enjoy your Christmas Eve to the hilt. Christmas Eve is the time to get together with family and thank God for their well being and love. .jpg)
The eve of Christmas is a very exciting yet peaceful time. Kids and youngsters get excited about decorating their houses and the festive season ushers in a spirit of well being and contentment. Houses are cleaned spick and span from top to bottom and are decorated beautifully with lights and other lovely decorating items. During the afternoon or early evening, the Mass of Vigil is conducted. At the stroke of midnight, a Midnight Mass is observed by Christians all over the world, thus officially marking the start of Christmas.
Usually, a typical Christmas Eve is celebrated by organizing a family dinner or an elaborate meal. The main dish varies from place to place; it is roasted goose in Germany, fish soup and breaded roasted carp with potato salad in Czech Republic and Slovakia, seven types of sea food in Italy, etc. The idea is to have a hearty meal with the family and pray for the well being of all. The cozy atmosphere at home is enough to warm up the severest of winter nights.
The main attraction and highlight of Christmas Eve is the arrival of the famous and everyone's favorite, Santa Claus! Young kids hang stockings on fireplaces for gifts and leave eatables for Santa Claus. Kids wait enthusiastically to catch a glimpse of this legendary figure that continues to intrigue young and old across the world. In some places, people stay awake till midnight to open the gifts. It is almost a tradition in some places and in some places it is a trend. The bottom-line is to have fun and spread cheer on Christmas Eve.
It is considered to be the day when the churches and homes are decorated traditionally. It is said that Christmas basically starts when the sun sets on December 24th. Planning dinners on Christmas Eve is a tradition that is carried on till date. There are many ideas given here to enjoy your Christmas Eve to the hilt. Christmas Eve is the time to get together with family and thank God for their well being and love. The eve of Christmas is a very exciting yet peaceful time. Kids and youngsters get excited about decorating their houses and the festive season ushers in a spirit of well being and contentment. Houses are cleaned spick and span from top to bottom and are decorated beautifully with lights and other lovely decorating items. During the afternoon or early evening, the Mass of Vigil is conducted. At the stroke of midnight, a Midnight Mass is observed by Christians all over the world, thus officially marking the start of Christmas.
Usually, a typical Christmas Eve is celebrated by organizing a family dinner or an elaborate meal. The main dish varies from place to place; it is roasted goose in Germany, fish soup and breaded roasted carp with potato salad in Czech Republic and Slovakia, seven types of sea food in Italy, etc. The idea is to have a hearty meal with the family and pray for the well being of all. The cozy atmosphere at home is enough to warm up the severest of winter nights.
The main attraction and highlight of Christmas Eve is the arrival of the famous and everyone's favorite, Santa Claus! Young kids hang stockings on fireplaces for gifts and leave eatables for Santa Claus. Kids wait enthusiastically to catch a glimpse of this legendary figure that continues to intrigue young and old across the world. In some places, people stay awake till midnight to open the gifts. It is almost a tradition in some places and in some places it is a trend. The bottom-line is to have fun and spread cheer on Christmas Eve.
Why do we celebrate Christmas on december 25th ?
December 25th is the traditional anniversary of the birth of Christ, but most scholars are unsure about the true date for Christ's birth.
The decision to celebrate Christmas on December 25th was made sometime during the fourth century by church bishops in Rome. They had a specific reason for doing so.
The decision to celebrate Christmas on December 25th was made sometime during the fourth century by church bishops in Rome. They had a specific reason for doing so.
Having turned long ago from worshiping the one true God and creator of all things, many early cultures in the Roman empire had fallen into sun worship. Recognizing their dependence on the sun's yearly course in the heavens, they held feasts around the winter solstice in December when the days are shortest. As part of their festivals, they built bonfires to give the sun god strength and bring him back to life again. When it became apparent that the days were growing longer, there would be great rejoicing.
The church leaders in Rome decided to celebrate Christ's birth during the winter solstice in an attempt to Christianize these popular pagan celebrations. For the most part their efforts failed to make the people conform, and the heathen festivities continued. Today we find ourselves left with a bizarre marriage of pagan and Christian elements that characterizes our modern celebration of Christmas.
Regardless of the pagan background of so many December traditions, and whether or not Jesus was born on December 25th, our goal is still to turn the eyes of all men upon the true Creator and Christ of Christmas. The light of the world has come. And the Christmas season and celebration presents the church with a wonderful opportunity to preach the good news--that men can be made righteous and have peace with God through faith in His Son, Jesus Christ.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
The Story of the Christ Child and Christmas
When Rome was a great Empire ruled by Caesar Augustus and Israel was governed by King Herod, in the village of Nazareth lived Joseph and Mary. Joseph was a carpenter and Mary was a young virgin who would become his wife. Mary told Joseph of a dream in which she was visited by an angel who told her she had been chosen to bear the Son of God and his name was to be Jesus.
One day the emperor sent notice that all persons were to register for a new tax. They were instructed to return to the towns of their birth. Joseph and Mary left Nazareth for Bethlehem. Mary who was with child, and close to the birth, rode on a donkey while Joseph walked beside her. They traveled for many days and only rested at night.
When they reached Bethlehem it was night. They looked for a place to rest but there were no empty rooms when they reached the inn. As they were being turned away Joseph mentioned his wife was with child and close to birth. The inn keeper took pity on them and told them of some caves in the nearby hills that shepherds would stay with their cows and sheep.
So Joseph and Mary went up into the hills and found the caves. In one cave was a stable room. Joseph cleaned it and made beds of fresh hay. He found a feeding trough which he cleaned and filled with hay to use as a crib. The next night Mary gave birth to a son and they named him Jesus, as the angel had said.
When the child was born a great star appeared over Bethlehem that could be seen for miles around. In the fields nearby shepherds were tending their flocks. An angel appeared to them surrounded by bright light. The shepherds were frightened and tried to run.
"Fear Not," said the angel, "For I bring you tidings of great joy. For unto you is born this day in Bethlehem - a Saviour who is Christ the Lord."
"And this shall be a sign unto you. You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."
Suddenly the sky was filled with angels, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the Highest, and on Earth peace, good will toward men."
After the angels departed the shepherds set out for Bethlehem. When they reached the cave they found the stable and inside was the child wrapped in swaddling clothes.
As the star shined over Bethlehem, in the east three kings would see it. They knew it was a sign and they set off to follow the star. There was Caspar - the young King of Tarsus, Melchior - a long bearded old man and leader of Arabia, and Balthazar - the king from Ethiopia. They traveled on camels for many days over the mountains, and through the deserts, and plains. Always following the bright star.
When they finally arrived in Bethlehem they found the child in the manger. The 3 kings bowed to their knees and offered gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They would stay the night in the cave and the next day returned to their lands to spread the news.
The Origin of Christmas
The origin of Christmas differs as the precise date of the birth and historicity of Jesus are much debated. Christmas, literally meaning the Mass of Christ, is a traditional holiday in the Christian calendar. The festival of Christmas takes place on 25th December, every year to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. Christmas is also celebrated as a secular holiday throughout the world, including countries with small Christian populations like India. Various theories of the origin of Christmas exist that give a clear insight into the celebration of Christmas.
Date Of ChristmasChristmas is celebrated on December 25 in all Christian churches including Eastern Rite, Roman & Protestant. Since most Eastern Orthodox churches have not accepted either the Gregorian calendar or the Revised Julian Calendar reforms, December 25 will fall on the civil date of January 7 for the years from 1900 to 2099. It is believed that the nativity was set on December 25th by a Roman bishop around the third century A.D.
The Roots Of ChristmasChristmas is from Christes Maesse, which means Christ Mass. It is referred that during the 4th century, the celebration of Christ's birth on December 25 was gradually adopted by most Eastern churches. In Jerusalem, opposition to Christmas lasted longer as according to them the exact date of birth of Jesus Christ is unknown. It is said that December 17-24th was the period of Saturnalia, a well-known festival in pagan, Rome. December 25th was the birthday of Mithra, the Iranian god of light. This day was adopted by the church as Christmas to counteract the effects of these festivals.
The Acceptation
Though the true origin of Christmas is filled with controversy and compromise, today, Christmas has turned out to be one of the most popular festival that fills joy, happiness and love in people's life. The festival of Christmas has absorbed various customs and traditions of world and 25th December has emerged as the most important day for Christians, irrespective of its roots. It is taken as a day that reflects the power, glory and salvation of Jesus Christ and his message of hope to the world.
Various Theories Of The origin of Christmas
As the origin of Christmas has been a debatable issue, various theories has been suggested, supporting the date of 25th December as the birth of Jesus. Few of them are:
Roman festival of SaturnaliaIt is an appropriation by early Christians of a day on which the birth of several pagan gods, Osiris, Jupiter, and Plutus, or the ancient deified leader Nimrod, was celebrated. It is an appropriation of the Roman festival of the birth of Unconquered Sun, celebrated on the day after the winter solstice, or the Roman festival of Saturnalia.
Jewish Festival of Lights
It derives from the tradition that Jesus was born during the Jewish Festival of Lights that falls on 25th December.
Date of Good FridayThe date of Christmas is based on the date of Good Friday, the day Jesus died. Since the exact date of Jesus' death is not stated in the Gospels, early Christians sought to calculate it, and arrived at either March 25 or April 6. Then, wishing to calculate Jesus' birthday, they followed the ancient idea that Old Testament prophets died either an anniversary of their birth or of their conception. In Jesus' case, they reasoned that he died on an anniversary of the Incarnation so the date of his birth would have been nine months after the date of Good Friday-either December 25 or January 6. The date of 25th December became popular.
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