Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-12-21
What the Christmas Sunshine Found In
Ita Flight Through the City.


tiny ray of sunlight, the first messenger
Of morning, brought to the city its Christmas
greeting. 1t sprung from a luminous cloud
just tinging the horison in the east and sped
away through the gray of the early dawn. It
danced upon the lofty church spire, kissed
the clocks in the steeple till the rugged,
weather beaten old face was radiant, darted
hither and thither over the house tops chasing
away the remnants of the darkness with
flying feet. II crept in at the windows touch
ed the eyes Of sleeping children, but fingered
for a moment TO hear the cries of merry
Christmas" the quick patter Of little feet
across the floor, and the ordinations of won
der and delight as the distorted stocking re-
vealed the visit Of the saint so dear to the
hearts of childhood. 1t flashed through the
grated window of prison cell, and the prs.
oners heart was lighter for the ray Of sun
shine that had come to him on Christmas day.
II stole into a great, silent room and with
plying touch carresBed the cold face Of a lit
tie one whose Christmas morning had dawn
ed in the land of eternal sunshine. To old
age the bright visitor recalled tender associa
tions Of long ago to the invalid it was a
promise Of renewed strength, and 80 to every
nook and corner of the great city it sped on
its mission of gladness In loathsome al.
ley, reeking with crime and filth, stood a
q
stained, grimmy window of the attic room,
the sun beam pressed for admittance. 1t
crept slowly, half timidly, across the rough,
unpainted floor, retreated and again advanc-
ed as it encountered the huge form Of a wom-
an, stretched at full length, asleep. An old
quilt was pulled over her, but the colossal
neck was barred, and the head thrown back,
revealed the veins, full and knotted like whip
cords. II was a strong face, framed in coarse
black hair, but every lneament betrayed the
mastery Of evil passion and the heavy respi-
ration, parched lips, sunken and discolored
eyes told the story of the debauchery and vice
which had preceded the merciful stupor. 1t
was not pleasant picture, and the sunshine
grew faint as it passed slowly over the sodden
features aud continued its tour of investiga-
ton. In one corner Of the department was a
seeming pile of rags, but the searching sun
light found beneath them a little girl and Gu
riously, half doubtfully peered into the dark,
elhsh face. It its touch pair of glittering
eyes opened and the first confused expression
was followed by one of intense anticipation.
stealthy glance at the slumbering form up
on the floor and the rags we're pushed aside
and the child cautiously moved toward the
stove in the center of the room. Cruel in its
kindness, the sunshine had gone before her.
Hanging on the battered rusty stovepipe
were two little ragged, mismatched stockings,
castaways from feet which kind fortune had
led in smoother paths, limp, forlorn and
empty, eloquent emblems of childish faith.
1t needed only glance to show that no kind
hand had been there through the long hours
OF the night, that no universal lover of child
rem had found his way down the chimney to
reward one little believer from his bounteous
store. The girl looked for a moment, while
all the light went out of her face, and then,
with quivering lips and blinded eyes, return
ed to her bed of rags. The sunshine left the
room, but not before it saw the crouching
form in the corner shaking with suppressed
sobs, hot tears forcing there way through the
tightly closed lids and clenched fingers, and
heard the pitiful moan of destroyed faith and
bitter disappointment. They told me lie
there amt no Santa Claus"
Throughout the city church bells were
ringing and happy voices were singing the
beautiful story of the Christ child's birth, the
gentle Savior whom the wise men travelled so
far to see in that lowly manger, many centu-
ries ago, at Bethlehem. peace on earth,
good will to men," joyous Christmas carols,
smiles and sunshine, congratulations and good
wishes, welcomed the day which means so
much to all Christendom, and rose in a grand
chorus to Him who knows no sweeter music.
1t was a gsd Christmas morning, but the sun
shine knew that in that dingy garret empty
stockings were hanging near the chimney,
that drunken mother was just awaking, cur
sing the light that had aroused her, that lit
tie child was lying prone upon its face, cry
ing Gs if the heart must break over the shat
tered fragments of its dearest belief. All,
who cannot believe that there was one who
heard with infinite pity and tenderness that
plaintive moan
''They told me lie there amt no Santa
Claus "-Kdtb1n d. Hf1fL