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Speaker 1: A Christmas Star by Katherine Pyle. Come now, my little

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dear stars, said Mother Moon, and I will tell you

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the Christmas Story. Every morning for a week before Christmas,

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Mother Moon used to call all the little stars around

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her and tell them a story. It was always the

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same story, but the stars never wearied of it. It

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was the story of the Christmas Star, the Star of Bethlehem.

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When Mother Moon had finished the story, the little stars

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always said, and the star is shining still, isn't it,

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Mother Moon, even if we can't see it. And Mother

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Moon would answer, yes, my DearS, only now it shines

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from men's hearts instead of their eyes. Then the stars

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would bid the Mother Moon good night and put on

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their little blue night caps and go to bed in

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the sky chamber. For the stars, bedtime is when people

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down on earth are beginning to waken and see that

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it is morning. But that particular morning, when the little

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stars said good night and went quietly away, one golden

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star still lingered beside Mother Moon. What is the matter,

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my little star, asked the Mother Moon. Why don't you

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go with your little sisters, Oh, Mother Moon, said the

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golden star. I am so sad. I wish I could

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shine for some one's heart, like that star of wonder

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that you tell us about. Why aren't you happy up

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here in the sky country, asked Mother Moon. Yes I

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have been very happy, said the star. But to night

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it seems just as if I must find some heart

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to shine for. Then if that is so, said mother Moon,

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the time has come, my little star, for you to

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go through the wonder entry, the wonder entry. What is that,

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asked the star, But the mother Moon made no answer.

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Rising she took the little Star by the hand and

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led it to a door that it had never seen before.

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The Mother Moon opened the door, and there was a long,

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dark entry. At the far end was shining a little

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speck of light. What is this, asked the star. It

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is the wonder Entry, and it is through this that

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you must go to find the heart where you belong,

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said the mother Moon. Then the little Star was afraid.

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It longed to go through the entry, as it had

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never longed for anything before. And yet it was afraid

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and clung to the Mother Moon. But very gently, almost sadly,

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the Mother Moon drew her hand away, Go, my child,

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she said. Then, wondering and trembling, the little Star stepped

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into the wonder entry, and the door of the sky

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house closed behind it. The next thing the star knew

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it was hanging in a toy shop with a whole

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row of other stars, blue and red and silver. It

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itself was gold. The shop smelled of evergreen and was

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full of Christmas shoppers, men and women and children. But

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of all of them, the star looked at no one

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but a little boy standing in front of the counter.

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For as soon as the star saw the child, it

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knew that he was the one to whom it belonged.

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The little boy was standing beside a sweet faced woman

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in a long black veil, and he was not looking

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at anything in particular. The star shook and trembled on

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the string that held it, because it was afraid lest

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the child should not see it, or lest if he did,

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he would not know it as his star. The lady

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had a number of toys on the counter before her,

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and she was saying, now, I think we have presents

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for every one. There's the doll for Loo, and the

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game for Ned, and the music box for May, and

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then the rocking horse and the sled. Suddenly the little

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boy caught her by the arm. Oh mother. He said

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he had seen the star. Well, what is it, darling,

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asked the lady. Oh, mother, just see that star up there.

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Oh I wish I do, wish I had it. Oh,

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my dear, we have so many things for the Christmas tree,

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said the mother. Yes, I know, but I do want

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this star, said the child. Very well, said the mother, smiling.

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Then we'll take that too. So the star was taken

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down from the place where it hung and wrapped up

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in a piece of paper, and all the while it

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thrilled with joy. For now it belonged to the little boy.

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It was not until the afternoon before Christmas, when the

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tree was being decorated, that the golden star was unwrapped

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and taken out from the paper. Here is something else,

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said the sweet faced lady. We must hang this on

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the tree. Paul took such a fancy to it that

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I had to get it for him. He will never

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be satisfied unless we hang it on too. Oh yes,

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said some one else who was helping to decorate the tree.

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We will hang it here on the very top. So

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the little star hung on the highest branch of the

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Christmas tree. That evening, all the candles were lighted on

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the Christmas tree, and there were so many that they

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fairly dazzled the eyes, and the gold and silver balls,

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the fair and the glass fruits shone and twinkled in

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the light, and high above them all shone the golden Star.

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At seven o'clock a bell was rung, and then the

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folding doors of the room where the Christmas trees stood

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were thrown open, and a crowd of children came trooping in.

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They laughed and shouted and pointed, and all talked together,

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and after a while there was music, and presents were

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taken from the tree and given to the children. How

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different it was from the great, wide, still sky house.

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But the star had never been so happy in all

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its life. For the little boy was there. He stood

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apart from the other children, looking up at the star,

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with his hands clasped behind him, and he did not

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seem to care for the toys and the games. At

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last it was all over. The lights were put out,

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the children went home, and the house grew still. Then

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the ornaments on the tree began to talk among themselves.

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So that is all over, said the sober ball. It

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was very gay this evening, the gayest Christmas I remember, Yes,

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said a bunch of grapes the best of it is over.

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Of course, people will come to look at us for

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several days yet, but it won't be like this evening.

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And then I suppose we'll be laid away for another year,

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said a paper fairy. Really, it seems hardly worth the

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while such a few days of the year, and then

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to be shut up in the dark box again. I

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almost wish I were a paper doll. The bunch of

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grapes was wrong in saying that people would come to

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look at the Christmas tree the next few days, for

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it stood neglected in the library, and nobody came near it.

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Everybody in the house went about very quietly with anxious faces,

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for the little boy was ill. At last, one evening

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a woman came into the room with a servant. The

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woman wore the cap and apron of a nurse. That

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is it, she said, pointing to the golden star. The

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servant climbed up on some step and took down the

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star and put it in the nurse's hand, and she

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carried it out into the hall and upstairs to the

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room where the little boy lay. This sweet faced lady

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was sitting by the bed, and as the nurse came in,

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she held out her hand for the star. Is this

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what you wanted, my darling, she asked, bending over the

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little boy. The child nodded and held out his hands

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for the star, and as he clasped it, a wonderful,

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shining smile came over his face. The next morning, the

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little boy's room was very still and dark. The golden

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piece of paper that had been the star lay on

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a table beside the bed, its five points very sharp

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and bright. But it was not the real star any

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more than a person's body as the real person. The

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real star was living and shining now in the little

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boy's heart, and it had gone out with him into

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a new and more beautiful sky country than it had

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ever known before, the sky country where the little child

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angels live, each one carrying in its heart its own

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particular star. And of a Christmas Star by Katherine Pyle