The Iowa plain dealer. [volume] (New Oregon, Howard County, Iowa) 1867-1895, 1883-12-27
Christmas as We Grow Old.

As we grow older, let III he more
thankful that the circle Of orr Christ
mas associations and Of the lessons that
they bring expands. Let us welcome
every one of them and summon them
to take their places hy the Christmas
hearth.
We come. oil aspirations, gilt ring
creatures Of an ardent fancy, to Your
places underneath the holly, We know
yon and have not ontlivel you yet.
Welcome, old projects aud OH lows.
however fleeting, IT, your nooks among
the steadier lights that burn alonnd IL.
Welcome, all that was ever real to aur
hearts; and for the earnestness that
made you real thanks to heaven. Do
we build no Christmas castles in The
clouds nov? Let orr thoughts. flnt-
tering like butterflies anon. thee
flowers Of children, bear witness.
Before the hoy there stretches ont 4
future higher than we ever looked on III
our romantic time, but bright with
honor and with truth. Around this
little head, on which the sunny curls
lie heaped, the graees sport rs prettilv,
Us airily rs when there was no sc,the
within the reach Of Tine to shear away
tho curls of orr first love. Upon
another girls fac near it placider
but smiling bright-a quiet but con-
tented little face, we see home fairly
written.
| Shining from the word rs rays shine
from q star, we see how, when our
! graves are old, other hopes than ours
are young; other hearts than ours
moved; how other waves are smothered;
how other happiness blooms. ripens
and decays-no, not decays, for other
homes and other hands Of children not
! yet i'll being, nor for ages yet to be,
arise and bloom and ripcn to the end
OF all.
Welcome everything! Welcome alik,
what has been and what never was and
what We hope may be to Your shelter
underneath the holly, to Your places
round the Christmas fire, where what
is sits open-hearted! In yonder shadow
do We see, ohtruding furtivelv upon the
blaze. an enemy's face. by Christmas
day, we do forgive him. Ii the injury
he has done lis may admit of such conn
panionship, let him come here and take
his place. Ii otherwise, nnhappily, let
him go home, assured that we will never
inlure or accuse him.
The winter sun goes down over town
and village: on the sea it makes n rosy
path, as ii the sacred tread were fresh
upon the water. A few more moments
and it sinks and night comes on, and
light begins to sparkle in the prospect.
On the hillside beyond the shapelesslv
difiused town, and the quiet keeping Of
the trees that grille the village steeple,
remembranees are cut in stone, planted
In common flowers, growing in grass.
entwinel in lowly brambles around
many mound Of earth.
In towns and villages there are doors
and windows closed against the weather,
there are flaming logs heaped high,
there are joyful faces, there is healthy
music OF voices. BE all ungentlencss
and harm excluded from the temples
of the household gods. but be those re-
membranes admitted with tender en-
enlargement. They are of the time
and all its comforting and peaceful re-
assurances, and Of history tat reunit-
ell even upon the earth the living and
. the dead; and of the broad benetieence
and goodness that too many men have
tried to tear to narrow shreds. Charles
Dickens.
4 Merry Christmas