R AND HER CHILD--AND THE MOTHER HERSELF
IS AT THE FEET OF THE CHILD" 124

[Illustration]

A CHRISTMAS GREETING

"_Good Will Toward Men"--St. Luke 11-14._

There was a time when the spirit of Christmas was of the present. There
is a period when most of it is of the past. There shall come a day
perhaps when all of it will be of the future. The child time, the
present; the middle years, the past; old age, the future.

Come to my mind Christmas Days of long ago. As a boy again I enter into
the spirit of the Christmas stockings hanging before my fire. I know
what the children think to-day. I recall what they feel.

Passes childhood, and I look down the nearer years. There rise before
me remembrances of Christmas Days on storm-tossed seas, where waves beat
upon the ice-bound ship. I recall again the bitter touch of
water-warping winter, of drifts of snow, of wind-swept plains. In the
gamut of my remembrance I am once more in the poor, mean, lonely little
sanctuary out on the prairie, with a handful of Christians, mostly
women, gathered together in the freezing, draughty building. In later
years I worship in the great cathedral church, ablaze with lights,
verdant and fragrant with the evergreen pines, echoing with joyful
carols and celestial harmonies. My recollections are of contrasts like
those of life--joy and sadness, poverty and ease.

And the pictures are full of faces, many of which may be seen no more by
earthly vision. I miss the clasp of vanished hands, I crave the sound
of voices stilled. As we old and older grow, there is a note of sadness
in our glee. Whether we will or not we must twine the cypress with the
holly. The recollection of each passing year brings deeper regret. How
many have gone from those circles that we recall when we were children?
How many little feet that pattered upon the stair on Christmas morning
now tread softer paths and walk in broader ways; sisters and brothers
who used to come back from the far countries to the old home--alas, they
cannot come from the farther country in which they now are, and perhaps,
saddest thought of all, we would not wish them to come again. How many,
with whom we joined hands around the Christmas tree, have gone?

Circles are broken, families are separated, loved ones are lost, but the
old world sweeps on. Others come to take our places. As we stood at the
knee of some unforgotten mother, so other children stand. As we
listened to the story of the