A Christmas Star by Katherine Pyle. Come now, my little dear stars,
said Mother Moon, and I will tell you the Christmas Story. Every morning
for a week before Christmas, Mother Moon used to call all the little stars
around her and tell them a story. It was always the same story,
but the stars never wearied of it. It was the story of the Christmas
Star, the Star of Bethlehem. When Mother Moon had finished the story,
the little stars always said, and the star is shining still, isn't it,
Mother Moon, even if we can't see it. And Mother Moon would
answer, yes, my DearS, only now it shines from men's hearts instead
of their eyes. Then the stars would bid the Mother Moon good night and
put on their little blue night caps and go to bed in the sky chamber.
For the stars, bedtime is when people down on earth are beginning to
waken and see that it is morning. But that particular morning, when the
little stars said good night and went quietly away, one golden star still lingered
beside Mother Moon. What is the matter, my little star, asked the
Mother Moon. Why don't you go with your little sisters, Oh, Mother
Moon, said the golden star. I am so sad. I wish I
could shine for some one's heart, like that star of wonder that you tell
us about. Why aren't you happy up here in the sky country, asked
Mother Moon. Yes I have been very happy, said the star. But
to night it seems just as if I must find some heart to shine for.
Then if that is so, said mother Moon, the time has come,
my little star, for you to go through the wonder entry, the
wonder entry. What is that, asked the star, But the mother Moon
made no answer. Rising she took the little Star by the hand and led
it to a door that it had never seen before. The Mother Moon opened
the door, and there was a long, dark entry. At the far
end was shining a little speck of light. What is this, asked the
star. It is the wonder Entry, and it is through this that you
must go to find the heart where you belong, said the mother Moon.
Then the little Star was afraid. It longed to go through the entry,
as it had never longed for anything before. And yet it was afraid and
clung to the Mother Moon. But very gently, almost sadly, the Mother
Moon drew her hand away, Go, my child, she said. Then,
wondering and trembling, the little Star stepped into the wonder entry, and
the door of the sky house closed behind it. The next thing the star
knew it was hanging in a toy shop with a whole row of other stars,
blue and red and silver. It itself was gold. The shop smelled
of evergreen and was full of Christmas shoppers, men and women and children.
But of all of them, the star looked at no one but a little
boy standing in front of the counter. For as soon as the star saw
the child, it knew that he was the one to whom it belonged.
The little boy was standing beside a sweet faced woman in a long black veil,
and he was not looking at anything in particular. The star shook and
trembled on the string that held it, because it was afraid lest the child
should not see it, or lest if he did, he would not know
it as his star. The lady had a number of toys on the counter
before her, and she was saying, now, I think we have presents
for every one. There's the doll for Loo, and the game for Ned,
and the music box for May, and then the rocking horse and the
sled. Suddenly the little boy caught her by the arm. Oh mother.
He said he had seen the star. Well, what is it, darling,
asked the lady. Oh, mother, just see that star up there.
Oh I wish I do, wish I had it. Oh, my
dear, we have so many things for the Christmas tree, said the mother.
Yes, I know, but I do want this star, said the
child. Very well, said the mother, smiling. Then we'll take that
too. So the star was taken down from the place where it hung and
wrapped up in a piece of paper, and all the while it thrilled with
joy. For now it belonged to the little boy. It was not until
the afternoon before Christmas, when the tree was being decorated, that the golden
star was unwrapped and taken out from the paper. Here is something else,
said the sweet faced lady. We must hang this on the tree. Paul
took such a fancy to it that I had to get it for him.
He will never be satisfied unless we hang it on too. Oh yes,
said some one else who was helping to decorate the tree. We will hang
it here on the very top. So the little star hung on the highest
branch of the Christmas tree. That evening, all the candles were lighted on
the Christmas tree, and there were so many that they fairly dazzled the eyes,
and the gold and silver balls, the fair and the glass fruits shone
and twinkled in the light, and high above them all shone the golden Star.
At seven o'clock a bell was rung, and then the folding doors of
the room where the Christmas trees stood were thrown open, and a crowd of
children came trooping in. They laughed and shouted and pointed, and all talked
together, and after a while there was music, and presents were taken from
the tree and given to the children. How different it was from the great,
wide, still sky house. But the star had never been so happy
in all its life. For the little boy was there. He stood apart
from the other children, looking up at the star, with his hands clasped
behind him, and he did not seem to care for the toys and the
games. At last it was all over. The lights were put out,
the children went home, and the house grew still. Then the ornaments on
the tree began to talk among themselves. So that is all over, said
the sober ball. It was very gay this evening, the gayest Christmas I
remember, Yes, said a bunch of grapes the best of it is over.
Of course, people will come to look at us for several days yet,
but it won't be like this evening. And then I suppose we'll be
laid away for another year, said a paper fairy. Really, it seems
hardly worth the while such a few days of the year, and then to
be shut up in the dark box again. I almost wish I were a
paper doll. The bunch of grapes was wrong in saying that people would come
to look at the Christmas tree the next few days, for it stood neglected
in the library, and nobody came near it. Everybody in the house went
about very quietly with anxious faces, for the little boy was ill. At
last, one evening a woman came into the room with a servant. The
woman wore the cap and apron of a nurse. That is it, she
said, pointing to the golden star. The servant climbed up on some step
and took down the star and put it in the nurse's hand, and she
carried it out into the hall and upstairs to the room where the little boy
lay. This sweet faced lady was sitting by the bed, and as the
nurse came in, she held out her hand for the star. Is this
what you wanted, my darling, she asked, bending over the little boy.
The child nodded and held out his hands for the star, and as
he clasped it, a wonderful, shining smile came over his face. The
next morning, the little boy's room was very still and dark. The golden
piece of paper that had been the star lay on a table beside the bed,
its five points very sharp and bright. But it was not the real
star any more than a person's body as the real person. The real star
was living and shining now in the little boy's heart, and it had gone
out with him into a new and more beautiful sky country than it had ever
known before, the sky country where the little child angels live, each one
carrying in its heart its own particular star. And of a Christmas Star by Katherine Pyle