The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1884-12-25
THE HOLIDAYS.

LIE monday season comes "neu 0nosu-
or Earth has least warmth in her heart
for US, when the winds have lost their
voluptuous softness and heavens blue its
tender depths. The early frosts which
mellowed Natures loneliness ere destroy
ing it, have deepened into intensity and
clutches with chilling grasp where they
touched wl;h gentlest though blighting
caress. The clouds sweep on wings OF
chilling blasts with sinister motion, while
the Alpine piles on the horizon seem like
mausoleums of vanished summer. Ma
ture has ceased to smile and we must
turn to the hearth of friendship for the
warmth which the soul covets and which
gives buoyancy and hope to life.
1t is winter in the heart which knows
not love. Sei6shness is misery at this
season when to live within oneself is to
bar out the spirit Ct good will whose fruit
age is the Christmas gift. Those deft
fingers which have fashioned the offerings
Va oAASStlSu loI 6OuC iOVCo OAC, hoNO OCOA
the active agent Of kind heart centered
on benevolent purpose. That gift is a
visible token of regard, pure, unselfish,
reverent. holy; typifying the divine pre-
cept sit is more blessed to give than to
receive" Can evil be joint tenant in the
mind which harbors generous thoughts9
Mother, never did you receive gift
whose value transcends this, for it was
woven in the loom of love. Not tear
stain of sorrow to mar it, except it be
such as cieanses the soul; not a thought
has dwelt upon it that has not been OF
kindness toward you; not a finger touch
that was not of innocence. No matter
how hayward or perverse your child has
been, though trouble may have blighted
her life or shame blasted it, she has
snatched from the past part of that
"morn of liquid dew and youth" when
innocence and trust and filial love were
her crown, to do you honor. She has
again sat at your feet protected by your
love, guided by your counsel, strengthen
ed by your confidence, sanctitied by the
holy love which had you for its object.
Take the gift. 1t is pure as the penitent
tear which opened the gates of Paradise
to the Peri. Ay, with reverence take it.
1t may be tho product of weary moments
when the eye would grow dim but for
thoughts of you. 1t may have grown to
shape in hours when unholy desires and
thoughts that pollute are banished. 1t
may nave come from purse which
seldom responds to the voice of charity,
whose strings are in the keeping of
vanity, but which has yielded this once
to the better impulses which memory Of
you has inspired.
No matter what our belief or disbelief
of the divinity of the Child whose first
draught of life was poverty deep as his
sympathy for the SORROWS of the children
of man, that birth b rs been the beacon
light of charity. The Star of Bethlehem
which guided the Chaldean shepherds
may no longer direct the faithful to the
true God; but the titful CLEAN of benevo-
lence shines out with steady light at this
time and leads to higher plane Of
humaEity-a realization of the tabled
Utopia. Man, seek not thy brother by
the light of creed when good will has
made all the world kin. The symphony
of love through the lips of laughter and
the voice of kindly greeting; the prayer
of gratitude which speaks through the
kindling eye and the warm hand clasp,
have no formulate of words to provoke
contention. Reader, when The Pilot
wishes you merry Christmas and a
Happy New Year" it follows the ritual
of greeting, but clothes sincerity in the
language of form.