December 1930
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Wha t Does Christmas Mean to You? B y H elen H owârth L emmèl
i T was Christmas Eve in a great city. The bril liantly lighted streets were filled with a hurrying throng, many of whom carried parcels in gay wrappings. Laughing children clung to smiling el ders. Mystery was abroad and happiness seemed to reign—until one looked close ly into passing
And it seemed as if the voice of the Stranger, now out of sight, floated back to him, “ Tell them. And lo, I am with you alway.” The Stranger soon entered a
great store, where the display was as G b ? dazzling as the windows outside had promised. He lingered near two well- dressed women, one of whom
held in her hand a beautiful p iece of jewelry. A frown spoiled her handsome face, and her voice was hard and impa tient as she said, “ It is too expensive; I will n ot spend so much on a gift for her. I know, for one thing, that the silly thing she gave me last year was giv en to her the year be fore. I shall have to give her something. She can’t live for ever, and her mon ey— ” She stopped, realizing she had spoken her thoughts aloud, a n d t h e n broke out shrilly, “ I hate Christmas.” She caught then the eyes of the Stranger up on her. He instant ly withdrew his gaze, but not before he had seen a flush up on the cheek, and a wonder in the eyes of the Christmas shopper. Coming now to a
faces, as did the Stranger. He was alone, and few ex cept the children ap peared to note or re spond to the ready smile that lighted his beau tifu l, wistful face. His slow walk led him at length to a. gay little bootblack ing stand, in the door of which stood its owner—a young boy, who stopped his soft whistling of a Christ mas melody to greet the Stranger with a ch eery , “ M e r r y Christmas, sir.” “ W h a t d o e s Christmas mean ?” asked the wayfarer. The boy did not try to hide his sur prise as he answered, “ Where do you live ? Christmas is the time when everybody gives everybody else presents and good things to eat.” “ But why?” was the next question. The boy’s bright eyes softened under the look that reached the core of his heart, and he said, “ It is Jesus’ birthday, sir.” “ And what would He like for a birth day gift?” E a g e r l y n o w came the answer. “ O
( E l j n a i m a B U t e a a i j ?
In Bethlehem’ s manger, Behold Him, a stranger, Weak, helpless, unconscious o f watchers around; In lowliest station, The Prince o f Salvation ’Mid the beasts o f the stall on this morning is found. But the angels are singing, And heaven is ringing With “ Glory to God and peace upon earth” ; For that Infant so lowly Is God the all-holy, And the spheres are declaring His wonderful birth. Then let us adore Him, And fall down before Him, As again “ the glad tidings o f joy ” we recall; Let us bring forth our treasure, And give without measure T o Him who has given Himself to us all. Still more, let us tender In loving surrender Ourselves, body, soul, and spirit, complete: Yea, Lord, we confess Thee, We praise Thee, we bless Thee, Our Jesus, our God, as we kneel at Thy feet. — R. C. Lowry.
large table heaped with highly colored and gilded cards, he stood watching es pecially the girl who served with patience even unto gracious ness the not always patient or pleasant crowd. As it thinned, she came to the Stranger. “ May I serve you, sir?” Bowing, he met her question with another, “What are these ?” “ They are Christmas cards, sir.” “ And what is Christmas ?” queried the Stranger. Whatever wonder she may have felt' at the question
sir, He would like—myself. And I’ve given Him that. And sir, I’m going to give you the best shine you ever had,” adding softly, “ in His name.” A little later, when the Stranger went his way, the boy’s eyes fallowed in wonder, and from his heart, warm with a glow that the Best Gift alone can give, he breathed, “ Oh, I wish every body knew.”
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