Christ Child

Devotion to the child Jesus, a small figure of the child Jesus, rests in the family's nativity scene.

The room is quiet.

The Christmas gatherings are over.

The scene is familiar.

Yet it asks something of us.

Will we leave Jesus in the crib when the season ends, or welcome Him into the ordinary days? Ahead.

Devotion to the child.

Jesus invites us to contemplate the wonder at the heart of our faith.

For more information or to volunteer, please visit librarybox.org.

The Art of Storytelling by Julia Darrell Carls a tale of the christ child it was christmas eve the soft snow fell in big flakes like white blossoms from the trees of june it covered the house roofs and glorified the trees it hung jewels above the windows of the pool and softened the lowliest hut to the white beauty of a palace and through the beautiful white pathway of the snow a herald rode and cried that to-night the dear christ child would walk through the streets and even as the falling snow made all barren and ugly things lovely so would the christ child's coming glorify the souls of them that met him aright and they would be forever blest who should gain speech for them no wonder that a million candles lighted the streets no wonder that great and proud rich and poor the sick the old and the lame thronged the wide beauty of the streets and wandered up and down wandering and waiting the king came forth in royal robes with a throng of courtiers at his back he bore himself proudly and proudly he waited the priest was there bearing the blessed cross and lifting prayerful eyes to the white sky the great singer came singing his loveliest songs in tones so sweet that all who heard him wondered and said surely he will have speech with the christ-child the poet came with his book and soldiers with gleaming swords boasting of battles they had won and all looked with eager eyes up and down the streets each longing to be the first to see the christ-child in all his beauty so in their eagerness they pressed now this way and now that heeding nothing but their one desire the shivering beggar was jostled the lame man was trampled under foot and lay moaning in a doorway and children were thrust aside from their eager gazing and fell weeping and disappointed or fled from the stern presence of some blustering soldier to hide in alleyways praying that the little christ child would find them there waiting to worship him among the children was one braver than the others little karl he had gone out with a glad heart saying to his mother i will not come back though i walk the streets all night until i will see the christ child and gain a blessing for you and for me but his mother kissed him fondly saying go my son but do not grieve if you do not see the christ child for there is blessing even in seeking him so little karl seeing so many crushed and crowded back though fearing that the christ child should pass while he spent the time lifted the lame man to a place of safety apart from the crowd followed the shiver beggar and lent him his cloak and comforted the weeping children and meanwhile the crowd purged and jostled and threatened and no one gave heed to a ragged boy who pressed slowly through the throng going from street to street and saying now and again i hunger will one give me a crust of bread no one gave heed save that the king drew back his royal robes and bade his courtiers clear his pathway of beggars the great singer asked angrily who was this who dared to interrupt him in his singing and turned his back upon the child to begin his song anew the poet saw him not because his eyes were not lifted from the book while some impatient at the interrupted melody or taking counsel from the king's frown jostled him in rude malice true the priest turned on him a kindly glance and would have spoken but that a sudden movement in crowd gave hope of the christ child's coming and he forgot all else to press after the others but little karl now shivering with cold had pity and crept to the stranger boy's side and broke his one piece of bread with him and offered him a place in his sheltered doorway it is cold karl said and i have lent my cloak or we could share it with each other and the bread is old but it is all i have and indeed one feels hunger and cold but lightly who watches for the christ child and hopes for his blessing when lo as the ragged boy broke the bread and ate with karl his face became glorified and a light like soft moonlight played about his fair temples and the eyes that looked into the very soul of karl as he rose in glad amaze were clear and wonderful as the winter stars and yet gentle as the eyes of a pet lamb and suddenly as he gazed karl fell worshipping for he knew that he had speech with the christ child then while the crowd still surged and quarrelled and waited watching the christ child walked through the soft falling snows where the little karl led the way and they sought out the beggar and the lame man and the little children and the great who were also good and all whose smiles were kindly and whose hearts were like those of little children end of section thirty three read by

section thirty four of the art of story-telling with nearly half a hundred stories THE ART OF STORYTELLING by Julia Darrow Coles.

STORY OF THE ARK, THE FLOOD, THE OLIVE BRANCH, THE RAINBOW OF PROMISE Story of the Ark.

It was midnight mass.

Really? The magic of Midnight Mass, the candles, the Christmas carols, the lights, the nativity scene, the baby Jesus, midnight on Christmas Eve.

It was just, it was magic.

It was so special.

Every good Catholic family, I think, and maybe many just general Christian families, have a nativity scene to remind us of what the reason for the season is.

We always had a beautiful nativity scene, and it was up on the mantel over the fireplace.

But we were not, I was, the family did not, we never put the baby Jesus in the manger until we got back from Christmas, from Christmas Eve, midnight mass.

And I get a little emotional just thinking about it.