Speaker 1: Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe by Elizabeth Harrison. Once
upon a time, a long time ago, far away across
the Great Ocean, in a country called Germany, there could
be seen a small log hut on the edge of
a great forest, whose fir trees extended for miles and
miles to the north. This little house, made of heavy
hewn logs, had but one room in it. A rough
pine door gave entrance to this room, and a small
square window admitted the light. At the back of the
house was built an old fashioned stone chimney, out of
which in winter curled a thin blue smoke, showing that
there was not very much fire within. Small as the
house was, it was large enough for two people who
lived in it. I want to tell you a story
to day about these two people. One was an old,
gray haired woman, so old that the little children of
the village nearly half a mile away often wondered whether
she had come into the world with the huge mountains
and the giant fir trees which stood like giants back
of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all over
with deep lines, which, if the children could only have
read aright, would have told them of many years of
cheerful happy self sacrifice, of loving anxious watching beside sick beds,
of quiet, endurance of pain, of many a day of
hunger and cold, and of a thousand deeds of unselfish
love for other people. But of course they could not
read this strange handwriting. They only knew that she was
old and wrinkled, and that she stooped as she walked.
None of them seemed to fear her, for her smile
was always cheerful, and she had a kindly word for
each of them if they chanced to meet her on
her way to and from the village. With this old
old woman lived a very little girl. So bright and
happy was she that the travelers who passed by the
lonesome little house on the edge of the forest often
thought of as Sunbeam as they saw her. These two
people were known in the village as Granny Goodyear and
little Gretchen. The winter had come and the frost had
snapped off many of the smaller branches of the pine
trees in the forest. Gretchen and her Grannie were up
by daybreak. Each morning. After their simple breakfast of oatmeal,
Gretchen would run to the little closet and fetch Grannie's
old woolen shawl, which seemed almost as old as Grannie herself.
Gretchen always claimed the right to put the shawl over
Grannie's head, even though she had to climb onto the
wooden bench to do it. After carefully pinning it under
Grannie's chin, she gave her a good bye kiss, and
Grannie started out for her morning's work in the forest.
This work was nothing more nor less than the gathering
up of the twigs and branches which the autumn winds
and winter frosts had thrown upon the ground. These were
carefully gathered into a large bundle, which Grannie tied together
with a strong linen band. She then managed to lift
the bundle to her shoulder and trudged off to the
village with it. Here she sold the faggots for kindling
wood to the people of the village. Sometimes she would
get only a few pence each day, and sometimes a
dozen or more. But on this money little Gretchen and
she managed to live. They had their home, and the
forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire, which kept
them warm in winter. In the summer time, Grannie had
a little garden at the back of the house, where
she raised with little Gretchen's help. If you potato and
turnips and onions. These she carefully stored away for winter use.
To this meager supply, the pennies gained by selling the
twigs from the forest added the oatmeal for Gretchen and
a little black coffee for Grannie. Meat was a thing
they never thought of having. It cost too much money. Still,
Grannie and Gretchen were very happy because they loved each
other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen would be left alone all day
long in the hut because Grannie would have some work
to do in the village after selling her bundle of
sticks and twigs. It was during these long days that
little Gretchen had taught herself to sing the song which
the wind sang to the pine branches in the summer time.
She learned the chirp and twitter of the birds, until
her voice might almost be mistaken for a bird's voice.
She learned to dance as the swaying shadows did, and
even to talk to the stars which shone through the
little square window when Grannie came home late or too
tired to talk. Sometimes when the weather was fine or her.
Grannie had an extra bundle of knitted stockings to take
to the village, she would let Little Gretchen go along
with her. It chanced that one of these trips to
the town came just the week before Christmas, and Gretchen's
eyes were delighted by the sight of the lovely Christmas
trees which stood in the window of the village store.
It seemed to her that she would never tire of
looking at the knit dolls, the wooly lambs, the little
wooden shops with their queer painted men and women in them,
and all the other fine things. She had never owned
a plaything in her whole life. Therefore, toys which you
and I would not think much of, seemed to her
very beautiful. That night, after their supper of baggag potatoes
was over, and little Gretchen had cleared away the dishes
and swept up the heart, because Granadeer was so tired,
she brought her own little wooden stool and placed it
very near Grannie's feet and sat down upon it, folding
her hands in her lap. Grannie knew that this meant
she wanted to be told about something, so she smilingly
laid away the large Bible which she had been reading,
and took up her knitting, which was as much as
to say, well, Gretchen, dear Grannie is ready to listen, Grannie,
said Gretchen slowly. It's almost Christmas time, isn't it. Yes, dearie,
said Grannie. Only five days more now, And then she sighed.
But little Gretchen was so happy that she did not
notice Grannie's sigh. What do you think, Grannie, I'll get
this Christmas, said she, looking up eagerly into Grannie's face. Ah,
child child, said Grannie, shaking her head. You'll have no
Christmas this year. We are too poor for that. Oh,
but Grannie interrupted little Gretchen. Think of all the beautiful
toys we saw in the village to day. Surely Santa
Claus has sent enough for every little child. Ah, dear,
those toys are for people who can pay for them,
and we have no money to spend for Christmas toys. Well, Grannie,
said Gretchen. Perhaps some of the little children who live
in the great House on the hill at the other
end of the village will be willing to share some
of their toys with me. They will be glad to
give some to a little girl who has none, dear child,
Dear child, said Grannie, leaning forward and stroking the soft
shiny hair of the little girl. Your heart is full
of love. You would be glad to bring a Christmas
to every child, But their heads are so full of
what they are going to get that they forget all
about anybody else but themselves. Then she sighed and shook
her head. Well, Grannie, said Gretchen, her bright happy of
voice growing a little less joyous. Perhaps the dear Santa
Claus will show some of the village children how to
make presents that do not cost money, and some of
them may surprise me Christmas morning with the present. And
Grannie dear added she, springing up from her low stool.
Can't I gather some of the pine branches and take
them to the old sick man who lives in the
house by the mill, so that he can have the
sweet smell of our forests in his room on Christmas Day? Yes, dearie,
said Grannie. You may do what you can to make
the Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect
any present yourself. Oh but, Grannie, said little Gretchen, her
face brightening, you forgot all about the shining Christmas angels
who came down to earth and sang them their wonderful
song the night the beautiful christ Child was born. They
are so loving and good that they will not forget
any little child. I shall ask my dear stars to
night to tell them of us, you know, she added,
with a look of relief. The stars are so very
high that they must know the angels quite well as
they come and go with their messages from the loving God.
Grannie sighed as she half whispered, poor child, poor child.
But Gretchen threw her arm around Grannie's neck and gave
her a hearty kiss, saying as she did so, Oh Grannie, Grannie,
you don't talk to the stars often enough, as you
would not be said at Christmas time. Then she danced
all around the room, whirling her little skirts about her
to show Grannie how the wind had made the snow
dance that day. She looked so droll and funny that
Grannie forgot her cares and worries and loved with little
Gretchen over her new snow dance. The days passed on,
and the morning before Christmas Eve came Gretchen, having tied
it up the little room for Grannie had taught her
to be a careful little housewife, was off to the forest,
singing a birdlike song, almost as happy and free as
the birds themselves. She was very busy that day preparing
a surprise for Grannie. First, however, she gathered the most
beautiful of the fir branches within her reach to take
the next morning to the old sick man who lived
by the mill. The day was all too short for
the happily little girl. When Grannie came trudging wearily home
that night, she found the frame of the doorway covered
with green pine branches. It is to welcome you, Grannie,
It is to welcome you, cried Gretchen, our dear old
home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you
see the branches of the evergreen naked, look as if
it were smiling all over, And it is trying to
say a happy Christmas to you, Grannie. Grannie laughed and
kissed the little girl as they opened the door and
went in together. Here was a new surprise for Grannie.
The four posts of the wooden bed which stood in
one corner of the room had been trimmed by the
busy little fingers with smaller and more flexible branches of
the pine trees. A small bouquet of red mountain ash
berries stood at each side of the fireplace, and these,
together with the trimmed posts of the bed, gave the
plain old room quite a festive look. Gretchen laughed and
clapped her hands and danced about until the house seemed
full of music to poor tired Grannie, whose heart had
been sad as she turned toward their home that night,
thinking of the disappointment that must come to loving little Gretchen.
The next morning, after supper was over, little Gretchen drew
her stool up to Grannie's side, and, laying her soft
little hands on Grannie's knee, asked to be told once
again the story of the coming of the Christ Child,
how the night that he was born, the beautiful angels
had sung their wonderful song, and how the whole sky
had become bright with a strange and glorious light never
seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had heard
the story many many times before, but she never grew
tired of it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again,
the happy little child wanted to hear it once more.
When Grannie had finished telling it. The two sat quiet
and silent for a little while thinking it over. Then
Grannie rose and said that it was time for her
to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy
wooden shoes, such as are worn in that country, and
placed them beside the hearth. Gretchy looked thoughtfully at them
for a minute or two, and then she said, Grannie,
don't you think that somebody in all this wild world
will think of us to night? Nay, Gretchen, I do
not think any one will. Well, then, Grannie said, Gretchen,
the Christmas angels will, I know. So I am going
to take one of your wooden shoes and put it
on the window sill outside, so that they may see
it as they pass by. I am sure the stars
will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is. Ah,
you foolish, foolish child, said Grannie. You are only getting
ready for a disappointment to morrow morning. There will be
nothing whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now.
But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her
head and cried, ah, Grannie, you do not talk enough
to the stars. With this, she seized the shoe, and
opening the door, hurried out to place it on the
window sill. It was very dark without, and something soft
and cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face.
Gretchy knew by this that it was snowing, and she
looked up to the sky, anxious to see if the
stars were inside. But a strong wind was tumbling the dark,
heavy snow clouds about and had shut away all else.
Never mind, said Gretchen softly to herself. The stars are
up there, even if I can't see them, and the
Christmas Angels do not mind snow storms. Just then a
rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering something
to her which she could not understand. And then it
made a sudden rush up to the snow clouds and
parted them so that the deep, mysterious sky appeared beyond,
and shining down out of the midst of it was
Gretchen's favorite star. Ah, a little star, little star, said
the child, laughing anout. I knew you were there, though
I could not see you. Will you whisper to the
Christmas Angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants
so very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning
if they have one to spare, and that she has
put one of Grannie's shoes upon the window sill for it.
A moment more, and the little girl, standing on tiptoe,
had reached the window sill and placed the shoe upon it,
and was back again the house beside Grannie and the
warm fire. The two went quietly to bed, and that night,
as little Gretchen knelt to pray to the heavenly Father,
she thanked him for having sent the christ Child into
the world to teach all mankind to be loving and unselfish,
And in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of
the Christmas Angels. The next morning, very early, even before
the sun was up, Little Gretchen was awakened by the
sound of sweet music coming from the village. She listened
for a moment, and then she knew that the choir
boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air
of the village street. She sprang up out of bed
and began to dress herself as quickly as possible, singing
as she dressed, while Grannie was slowly putting on her clothes.
Little Gretchen, having finished dressing herself, unfastened the door and
hurried out to see what the Christmas angels had left
in the old wooden shoe. The white snow covered everything, trees, stumps,
roads and pastures, until the whole world looked like a
fairy land. Gretchen climbed up on a large stone which
was beneath the window, and carefully lifted down the wooden shoe.
The snow tumbled off of it in a shower over
the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that.
She ran hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand
into the toe of the shoe as she ran. Oh, Grannie, Grannie,
she exclaimed, She did not believe the Christmas angels would
think about us, But see they have they have. Here
is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe
of your shoe. Oh isn't he beautiful? Grannie came forward
and looked at what the child was holding lovingly in
her hand. There she saw a tiny chickadee, whose wing
was evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of
the night before, and who had taken shelter in the safe,
dry toe of the old wooden shoe. She gently took
the little bird out of Gretchen's hands and skillfully bound
his broken wing to his side so that he need
not hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she
showed Gretchen how to make a nice warm nest for
the little stranger close beside the fire, and when their
breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little bird
with a few moist crumbs. Later in the day, Gretchen
carried the fresh green boughs to the old sick man
by the mill, and on her way home, stopped to
enjoy the Christmas toys of some other children that she knew,
never once wishing they were hers. When she reached home,
she found that the little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however,
he opened his eyes and stretched his head up, saying,
just as plain as the bird can say, Now, my
new friends, if you want to give me something more
to eat, Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then holding
him in her lap, she softly and gently stroked his
gray feathers until the little creature seemed to lose all
fear of her. That evening, Grannie taught her at Christmas
hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then Gretchen
made up a funny little story to tell the Birdye,
he winked his eyes and turned his head from side
to side in such a droll fashion that Gretchen laughed
until the tears came. As Grannie and she got ready
for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms softly around
Grannie's neck and whispered, what a beautiful Christmas we have
had to day, Grannie? Is there anything more lovely in
all the world than Christmas? Nay, child, Nay, said Grannie,
not to such loving hearts as yours, and off Litle
Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe by Elizabeth Harrison