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The Legend of the Christmas Tree by
Charles Dickens. Most children have seen a

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Christmas tree, and many know that
the pretty and pleasant custom of hanging gifts

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on its boughs comes from Germany.
But perhaps few have heard or read the

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story that is told to little German
children respecting the origin of this custom.

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The story is called the Little Stranger, and runs thus. In a small

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cottage on the borders of a forest
lived a poor laborer who gained a scanty

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living by cutting wood. He had
a wife and two children who helped him

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in his work. The boy's name
was Valentine, and the girl was called

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Mary. They were obedient, good
children, and a great comfort to their

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parents. One winter evening, this
happy little family were sitting quietly round the

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hearth, the knowing the wind raging
outside while they ate their supper of dry

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bread, when a gentle tap was
heard on the window, and a childish

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voice cried from without, Oh,
let me in and pray. I'm a

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poor little child with nothing to eat
and no home to go to, and

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I shall die of cold and hunger
unless you let me in. Valentine and

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Mary jumped up from the table and
ran to open the door, saying,

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come in, poor little child.
We have not much to give you,

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but whatever we have we will share
with you. The stranger child came in

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and warmed his frozen hands and feet
at the fire, and the children gave

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him the best they had to eat, saying, you must be tired,

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too, poor child, Lie down
on our bed. We can sleep on

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the bench for one night. Then
said the little stranger child, thank God

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for all your kindness to me.
So they took their little guest into their

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sleeping room, laid him on the
bed, covered him over, and said

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to each other, how thankful we
ought to be. We have warm rooms

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on a cozy bed, while this
poor child has only heaven for his roof

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and the cold earth for his sleeping
place. When their father and mother went

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to bed, Mary and Valentine lay
quite contentedly on the bench near the fire,

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saying, before they fell asleep,
the stranger child will be so happy

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to night in his warm bed.
These kind children had not slept many hours

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before. Mary awoke and softly whispered
to her brother Valentine, dear, wake

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and listen to the sweet music under
the window. Then Valentine rubbed his eyes

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and listened it was sweet music,
indeed sounded like beautiful voices singing to the

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tones of a harp o. Holy
Child, we greet thee, bringing sweet

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strains of harp to aid our seeinging
thou, holy child, in peace,

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hard sleeping, while we are warhart
with our dark keeping blasphe the house,

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wearin thou liest happyest on earth to
Heaven the highest. The children listened while

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a solemn joy filled their hearts.
Then they stepped softly to the window to

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see who might be without. In
the east was a streak of rosy dawn,

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and in its light they saw a
group of children standing before the house,

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clothed in silver garments, holding golden
harps in their hands. Amazed at

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this sight, the children were still
gazing out of the window when a light

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tap caused them to turn around.
There stood the stranger child before them,

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clad in a golden dress with a
gleaming radiance round his curling hair. I

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am the little christ Child, he
said, who wanders through the world bringing

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peace and happiness to good children.
You took me in and cared for me

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when you thought me a poor child, and now you shall have my blessing

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for what you have done. A
fir tree grew near the house, and

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from this he broke a twig,
which he planted in the ground, saying,

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this twig shall become a tree,
and shall bring forth fruit year by

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year for you. No sooner had
he done this than he vanished, and

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with him the little choir of angels. But the fir branch grew and became

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a Christmas tree, and on its
branches hung golden apples and silver nuts every

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Christmas tide, such as the story
told the German children concerning their beautiful Christmas

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trees. Though we know that the
real little Christ Child can never be wandering,

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cold and homeless again in our world, inasmuch as he is safe in

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heaven by his father's side, yet
we may gather from this story the same

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truth which the Bible plainly tells us, that any one who helps a Christian

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child in distress, it will be
counted unto him, as if he had

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indeed done it unto Christ himself.
Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the

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least of these, my brethren,
ye have done it unto me. End

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of the Legend of the Christmas Tree
by Charles Dickens