Middletown transcript., 1904-12-24
A CHRISTMAS STORY
BY PHOEBE CARY

BY PHOEBE CARY
Across the German Ocean,
| In country far from our own,
| Once poor little boy, named Gottlieb,
Lived with his mother alone.
They dwelt in the part OF a village
! Where the houses were poor and small,
But the home of the little Gottlieb,
Was the poorest one of all.
| He was not large enough to work,
And his mother could do no more
Though she scarcely lay her knitting
DOWN
Than keep the wolf from the door. X
She had to take their threadbare clothes
And turn, and patch, and darn;
For never any woman yet
Grew rich by knitting yarn.
And oft at night beside her chair,
Would Gottlieb sit, and plan
The wonderful things that he would do
for her, =
When he grew to be NALL
One night she sat 4
Aud Gottlieb sat
When a happy h
Upon his vision
Twas only wed -
And Gottlieb knew that c!lU
The Christ-child that was born That day,
Sent down gifts to mep,
But he said, "FIe will never find US,
Our home rs so mean and small.
And we, who have most need OF them,
Will get no gifts at ALL"
When all at once, a happy light
Game into his eyes SO blue,
Ard lighted up his face with smiles,
As he thought what he could do.
Next day when the postman's letters
Game from all over the land;
Came one for the Christ-child written
In child's poor trembling hand.
Ynn may think lie was sorely puzzled
What in the world to do;
S., lie went to the Burgomaster,
As the wisest man he knew.
And when they opened the letter,
They stood almost dismayed
That such little child should dare
To ask the Lord for aid.
Then the Rurxomaster stammered;
And scarce knew what to speak,
And hastily he brushed aside
A drop, like tear, from his cheek.
Then up he spoke right gruffly
And turned himself about:
This must be very foolish boy,
And small one, too, no doubt.
But when six rosy children
That night about him pressed,
Poor, trusting little Gottlieb
Stood near him, with the rest.
Aud he heard his simple, touching prayer,
Through all their noisy play;
Thongh he tried his very best to put
The thought Of him away.
A wise and learned man was he,
Men called him good and Just;
But his wisdom seemed like foolishness,
By that weak child's simple trust.
Now when the morn of Christmas came,
And the long, long week was done,
Poor Gottlieb. VINO scarce could sleep,
Rose up before the sun.
And hastened to his mother,
But he scarce might speak for fear,
When he saw her wondering look,
And the Burgomaster near.
He wasn't afraid OF the Holy Babe,
Nor his mother, meek and mild;
But he felt as if so great man
Had never been child.
Amazed the poor child looked, to find
The hearth was piled with wood,
And the table never full before,
Was Ieaped with dainty food.
Then half to hide from himself the truth
1he Burgomaster said,
While the mother blessed him on her
knees,
And Gottlieb shook FOR dread.
Nay, gissno tharks, my good dame,
To such as me for aid, .
Be grateful to your little son,
And the Lord to aiom he prayedg'
Then turning round to GottIieb,
Your written prayer, you see,
Came not to nhom it was addressed,
It only came to mel
Twas but foolish thing you did.
Az You n,uet understand
For though the gifts are yonrs. yon know,
You have them from my hand. =
Then lsottlieb ans, cred fearlessIy.
Where he liusnblg q 4 apart
But the Chfist-eiiil5 fhem All the
Ham6
The ban bsa "a