The Frankfort roundabout. [volume] (Frankfort, Ky.) 1882-1908, 1904-12-24
(For the Roundabout. }
MY CHRISTMAS VIGIL.


heavy, velvet curtains of the night
had swiftly fallen, and shut out
all the glories of a winters day,
leaving, instead, the icy breath
and frosty sky of the calm starlit
heaven. l sat alone, and in my
utter desolation cried aloud: mo
being in Gods world SO poor as !!
No friend to give me welcome OH
the Christmas day-father,
mother, home, all past away into
the dreamland, the undiscov-
cred country from whose bourne
no traveller returns.
/ turned me to my small un-
curtained window. my heart grown
sad and bitter with regret, and
resting my elbows on the window
sill gazed into the distant worlds
of light-then out upon the night.
STARS above and stars below
me-" 1 murmured catching my
breath with strange intensity of
fear. Il never saw them quite
the same before" Yes, they were
bright sparkling lights from
neighboriDg windows shining out
upon the snow like beacon lamps,
and l had no light, nothing about
me save the gloom and darkness
of discomfort.
why should l sit alone on
Christmas Eve when all are bright
and happy at the Christmas
tide?" | questioned fate. When
there arose before my startled
vision the sad beautiful face of
an angel who caught me to her
bosom and bore me swiftly out on
wings of light.
my unhappy childr' she whis-
pered, "all is not joy tonight.
The lamplight shines the bright
est in desolate homes. See here
is one!"
We stopped before brown
stone front, silently ] followed
where her footsteps led-sweet
messenger divine - knowing so
we'll the angel voice was needed
here.
A small white coffin, and in it's
spotless purity bedecked with
flowers the fair young daughter of
the millionaire. l had known
sorrow-she had walked with me
but here was grief-not mine.
Into another home we entered.
Two aged people, husband and
wife, sat by the fire, with care
worn brow and aching hearts, for
On tomorrow debt would take
their all and in old age and pow
erty the end would come.
"Alas!" l murmured-"Is this
life?"
Dozens of homes we entered
always finding skeletons-connu-
bal infelicities, tears, sorrows
darkness of mental vision-the
paraphraze of narrowed views and
embittered prowess.
Once more we stopped. The
bare empty room-cOmpared to
which my small one seemed
palace-in it was a woman keeI-
ing watch beside the bedside of
her sleeping children. She sat
before an open door barring the
entrance to foe. l saw the
sneaking wolves-hunger and pow
erty-leaping and snarling upon
the threshold. AS l looked the
mothers face grew white as death.
her eyelids closed, at last her
frightful vigil at an end. The
starving wolves sprang at the
white Threats of the sleeping chill
dren. In my agony and helpless
ness l cried aloud and awoke
within the circle of my little room
the Christmas starlight shining
on my face.
The vision pleased me. 1t was
not all a dream, and l arose
Straightway lightened up my
dark and cherries chamber. Who
knows but that some tired and
weary traveller had missed my
light, wandering away from the
paths of duty from home and
God. Thanks be to the angel of
the Christmas Eve look below
the earthly lights are dim. L
raise my eyes to heaven and 10!
the star is there to guide me to