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Speaker 1: Little Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe by Elizabeth Harrison. Once

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upon a time, a long time ago, far away across

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the Great Ocean, in a country called Germany, there could

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be seen a small log hut on the edge of

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a great forest, whose fir trees extended for miles and

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miles to the north. This little house, made of heavy

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hewn logs, had but one room in it. A rough

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pine door gave entrance to this room, and a small

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square window admitted the light. At the back of the

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house was built an old fashioned stone chimney, out of

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which in winter curled a thin blue smoke, showing that

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there was not very much fire within. Small as the

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house was, it was large enough for two people who

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lived in it. I want to tell you a story

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to day about these two people. One was an old,

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gray haired woman, so old that the little children of

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the village nearly half a mile away often wondered whether

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she had come into the world with the huge mountains

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and the giant fir trees which stood like giants back

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of her small hut. Her face was wrinkled all over

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with deep lines, which, if the children could only have

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read aright, would have told them of many years of

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cheerful happy self sacrifice, of loving anxious watching beside sick beds,

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of quiet, endurance of pain, of many a day of

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hunger and cold, and of a thousand deeds of unselfish

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love for other people. But of course they could not

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read this strange handwriting. They only knew that she was

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old and wrinkled, and that she stooped as she walked.

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None of them seemed to fear her, for her smile

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was always cheerful, and she had a kindly word for

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each of them if they chanced to meet her on

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her way to and from the village. With this old

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old woman lived a very little girl. So bright and

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happy was she that the travelers who passed by the

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lonesome little house on the edge of the forest often

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thought of as Sunbeam as they saw her. These two

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people were known in the village as Granny Goodyear and

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little Gretchen. The winter had come and the frost had

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snapped off many of the smaller branches of the pine

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trees in the forest. Gretchen and her Grannie were up

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by daybreak. Each morning. After their simple breakfast of oatmeal,

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Gretchen would run to the little closet and fetch Grannie's

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old woolen shawl, which seemed almost as old as Grannie herself.

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Gretchen always claimed the right to put the shawl over

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Grannie's head, even though she had to climb onto the

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wooden bench to do it. After carefully pinning it under

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Grannie's chin, she gave her a good bye kiss, and

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Grannie started out for her morning's work in the forest.

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This work was nothing more nor less than the gathering

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up of the twigs and branches which the autumn winds

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and winter frosts had thrown upon the ground. These were

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carefully gathered into a large bundle, which Grannie tied together

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with a strong linen band. She then managed to lift

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the bundle to her shoulder and trudged off to the

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village with it. Here she sold the faggots for kindling

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wood to the people of the village. Sometimes she would

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get only a few pence each day, and sometimes a

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dozen or more. But on this money little Gretchen and

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she managed to live. They had their home, and the

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forest kindly furnished the wood for the fire, which kept

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them warm in winter. In the summer time, Grannie had

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a little garden at the back of the house, where

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she raised with little Gretchen's help. If you potato and

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turnips and onions. These she carefully stored away for winter use.

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To this meager supply, the pennies gained by selling the

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twigs from the forest added the oatmeal for Gretchen and

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a little black coffee for Grannie. Meat was a thing

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they never thought of having. It cost too much money. Still,

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Grannie and Gretchen were very happy because they loved each

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other dearly. Sometimes Gretchen would be left alone all day

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long in the hut because Grannie would have some work

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to do in the village after selling her bundle of

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sticks and twigs. It was during these long days that

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little Gretchen had taught herself to sing the song which

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the wind sang to the pine branches in the summer time.

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She learned the chirp and twitter of the birds, until

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her voice might almost be mistaken for a bird's voice.

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She learned to dance as the swaying shadows did, and

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even to talk to the stars which shone through the

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little square window when Grannie came home late or too

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tired to talk. Sometimes when the weather was fine or her.

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Grannie had an extra bundle of knitted stockings to take

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to the village, she would let Little Gretchen go along

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with her. It chanced that one of these trips to

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the town came just the week before Christmas, and Gretchen's

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eyes were delighted by the sight of the lovely Christmas

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trees which stood in the window of the village store.

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It seemed to her that she would never tire of

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looking at the knit dolls, the wooly lambs, the little

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wooden shops with their queer painted men and women in them,

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and all the other fine things. She had never owned

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a plaything in her whole life. Therefore, toys which you

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and I would not think much of, seemed to her

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very beautiful. That night, after their supper of baggag potatoes

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was over, and little Gretchen had cleared away the dishes

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and swept up the heart, because Granadeer was so tired,

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she brought her own little wooden stool and placed it

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very near Grannie's feet and sat down upon it, folding

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her hands in her lap. Grannie knew that this meant

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she wanted to be told about something, so she smilingly

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laid away the large Bible which she had been reading,

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and took up her knitting, which was as much as

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to say, well, Gretchen, dear Grannie is ready to listen, Grannie,

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said Gretchen slowly. It's almost Christmas time, isn't it. Yes, dearie,

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said Grannie. Only five days more now, And then she sighed.

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But little Gretchen was so happy that she did not

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notice Grannie's sigh. What do you think, Grannie, I'll get

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this Christmas, said she, looking up eagerly into Grannie's face. Ah,

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child child, said Grannie, shaking her head. You'll have no

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Christmas this year. We are too poor for that. Oh,

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but Grannie interrupted little Gretchen. Think of all the beautiful

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toys we saw in the village to day. Surely Santa

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Claus has sent enough for every little child. Ah, dear,

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those toys are for people who can pay for them,

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and we have no money to spend for Christmas toys. Well, Grannie,

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said Gretchen. Perhaps some of the little children who live

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in the great House on the hill at the other

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end of the village will be willing to share some

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of their toys with me. They will be glad to

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give some to a little girl who has none, dear child,

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Dear child, said Grannie, leaning forward and stroking the soft

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shiny hair of the little girl. Your heart is full

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of love. You would be glad to bring a Christmas

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to every child, But their heads are so full of

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what they are going to get that they forget all

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about anybody else but themselves. Then she sighed and shook

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her head. Well, Grannie, said Gretchen, her bright happy of

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voice growing a little less joyous. Perhaps the dear Santa

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Claus will show some of the village children how to

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make presents that do not cost money, and some of

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them may surprise me Christmas morning with the present. And

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Grannie dear added she, springing up from her low stool.

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Can't I gather some of the pine branches and take

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them to the old sick man who lives in the

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house by the mill, so that he can have the

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sweet smell of our forests in his room on Christmas Day? Yes, dearie,

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said Grannie. You may do what you can to make

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the Christmas bright and happy, but you must not expect

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any present yourself. Oh but, Grannie, said little Gretchen, her

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face brightening, you forgot all about the shining Christmas angels

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who came down to earth and sang them their wonderful

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song the night the beautiful christ Child was born. They

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are so loving and good that they will not forget

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any little child. I shall ask my dear stars to

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night to tell them of us, you know, she added,

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with a look of relief. The stars are so very

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high that they must know the angels quite well as

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they come and go with their messages from the loving God.

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Grannie sighed as she half whispered, poor child, poor child.

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But Gretchen threw her arm around Grannie's neck and gave

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her a hearty kiss, saying as she did so, Oh Grannie, Grannie,

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you don't talk to the stars often enough, as you

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would not be said at Christmas time. Then she danced

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all around the room, whirling her little skirts about her

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to show Grannie how the wind had made the snow

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dance that day. She looked so droll and funny that

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Grannie forgot her cares and worries and loved with little

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Gretchen over her new snow dance. The days passed on,

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and the morning before Christmas Eve came Gretchen, having tied

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it up the little room for Grannie had taught her

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to be a careful little housewife, was off to the forest,

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singing a birdlike song, almost as happy and free as

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the birds themselves. She was very busy that day preparing

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a surprise for Grannie. First, however, she gathered the most

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beautiful of the fir branches within her reach to take

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the next morning to the old sick man who lived

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by the mill. The day was all too short for

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the happily little girl. When Grannie came trudging wearily home

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that night, she found the frame of the doorway covered

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with green pine branches. It is to welcome you, Grannie,

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It is to welcome you, cried Gretchen, our dear old

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home wanted to give you a Christmas welcome. Don't you

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see the branches of the evergreen naked, look as if

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it were smiling all over, And it is trying to

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say a happy Christmas to you, Grannie. Grannie laughed and

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kissed the little girl as they opened the door and

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went in together. Here was a new surprise for Grannie.

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The four posts of the wooden bed which stood in

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one corner of the room had been trimmed by the

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busy little fingers with smaller and more flexible branches of

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the pine trees. A small bouquet of red mountain ash

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berries stood at each side of the fireplace, and these,

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together with the trimmed posts of the bed, gave the

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plain old room quite a festive look. Gretchen laughed and

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clapped her hands and danced about until the house seemed

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full of music to poor tired Grannie, whose heart had

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been sad as she turned toward their home that night,

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thinking of the disappointment that must come to loving little Gretchen.

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The next morning, after supper was over, little Gretchen drew

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her stool up to Grannie's side, and, laying her soft

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little hands on Grannie's knee, asked to be told once

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again the story of the coming of the Christ Child,

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how the night that he was born, the beautiful angels

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had sung their wonderful song, and how the whole sky

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had become bright with a strange and glorious light never

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seen by the people of earth before. Gretchen had heard

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the story many many times before, but she never grew

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tired of it, and now that Christmas Eve had come again,

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the happy little child wanted to hear it once more.

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When Grannie had finished telling it. The two sat quiet

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and silent for a little while thinking it over. Then

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Grannie rose and said that it was time for her

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to go to bed. She slowly took off her heavy

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wooden shoes, such as are worn in that country, and

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placed them beside the hearth. Gretchy looked thoughtfully at them

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for a minute or two, and then she said, Grannie,

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don't you think that somebody in all this wild world

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will think of us to night? Nay, Gretchen, I do

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not think any one will. Well, then, Grannie said, Gretchen,

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the Christmas angels will, I know. So I am going

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to take one of your wooden shoes and put it

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on the window sill outside, so that they may see

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it as they pass by. I am sure the stars

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will tell the Christmas angels where the shoe is. Ah,

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you foolish, foolish child, said Grannie. You are only getting

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ready for a disappointment to morrow morning. There will be

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nothing whatever in the shoe. I can tell you that now.

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But little Gretchen would not listen. She only shook her

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head and cried, ah, Grannie, you do not talk enough

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to the stars. With this, she seized the shoe, and

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opening the door, hurried out to place it on the

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window sill. It was very dark without, and something soft

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and cold seemed to gently kiss her hair and face.

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Gretchy knew by this that it was snowing, and she

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looked up to the sky, anxious to see if the

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stars were inside. But a strong wind was tumbling the dark,

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heavy snow clouds about and had shut away all else.

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Never mind, said Gretchen softly to herself. The stars are

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up there, even if I can't see them, and the

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Christmas Angels do not mind snow storms. Just then a

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rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering something

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to her which she could not understand. And then it

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made a sudden rush up to the snow clouds and

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parted them so that the deep, mysterious sky appeared beyond,

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and shining down out of the midst of it was

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Gretchen's favorite star. Ah, a little star, little star, said

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the child, laughing anout. I knew you were there, though

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I could not see you. Will you whisper to the

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Christmas Angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants

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so very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning

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if they have one to spare, and that she has

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put one of Grannie's shoes upon the window sill for it.

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A moment more, and the little girl, standing on tiptoe,

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had reached the window sill and placed the shoe upon it,

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and was back again the house beside Grannie and the

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warm fire. The two went quietly to bed, and that night,

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as little Gretchen knelt to pray to the heavenly Father,

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she thanked him for having sent the christ Child into

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the world to teach all mankind to be loving and unselfish,

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And in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of

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the Christmas Angels. The next morning, very early, even before

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the sun was up, Little Gretchen was awakened by the

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sound of sweet music coming from the village. She listened

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for a moment, and then she knew that the choir

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boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air

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of the village street. She sprang up out of bed

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and began to dress herself as quickly as possible, singing

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as she dressed, while Grannie was slowly putting on her clothes.

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Little Gretchen, having finished dressing herself, unfastened the door and

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hurried out to see what the Christmas angels had left

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in the old wooden shoe. The white snow covered everything, trees, stumps,

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roads and pastures, until the whole world looked like a

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fairy land. Gretchen climbed up on a large stone which

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was beneath the window, and carefully lifted down the wooden shoe.

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The snow tumbled off of it in a shower over

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the little girl's hands, but she did not heed that.

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She ran hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand

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into the toe of the shoe as she ran. Oh, Grannie, Grannie,

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she exclaimed, She did not believe the Christmas angels would

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think about us, But see they have they have. Here

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is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe

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of your shoe. Oh isn't he beautiful? Grannie came forward

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and looked at what the child was holding lovingly in

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her hand. There she saw a tiny chickadee, whose wing

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was evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of

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the night before, and who had taken shelter in the safe,

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dry toe of the old wooden shoe. She gently took

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the little bird out of Gretchen's hands and skillfully bound

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his broken wing to his side so that he need

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not hurt himself trying to fly with it. Then she

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showed Gretchen how to make a nice warm nest for

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the little stranger close beside the fire, and when their

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breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little bird

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with a few moist crumbs. Later in the day, Gretchen

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carried the fresh green boughs to the old sick man

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by the mill, and on her way home, stopped to

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enjoy the Christmas toys of some other children that she knew,

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never once wishing they were hers. When she reached home,

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she found that the little bird had gone to sleep. Soon, however,

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he opened his eyes and stretched his head up, saying,

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just as plain as the bird can say, Now, my

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new friends, if you want to give me something more

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to eat, Gretchen gladly fed him again, and then holding

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him in her lap, she softly and gently stroked his

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gray feathers until the little creature seemed to lose all

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fear of her. That evening, Grannie taught her at Christmas

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hymn and told her another beautiful Christmas story. Then Gretchen

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made up a funny little story to tell the Birdye,

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he winked his eyes and turned his head from side

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to side in such a droll fashion that Gretchen laughed

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until the tears came. As Grannie and she got ready

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for bed that night, Gretchen put her arms softly around

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Grannie's neck and whispered, what a beautiful Christmas we have

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had to day, Grannie? Is there anything more lovely in

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all the world than Christmas? Nay, child, Nay, said Grannie,

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not to such loving hearts as yours, and off Litle

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Gretchen and the Wooden Shoe by Elizabeth Harrison