A Christhnas Reurrie HIS is the homing season. Also the time whe and my mind is much taken up wit! both. SUSE el other days, and snapshots of faces, some erstwhile iSrvotten=h a oe distinguishing features of the Christmas mood. cea am sitting by a hearth fire; ani baits ENGiareBYapieghiteons the ectbeds of the-deys of ae Ce eee defiant of the order of time or place, these Christmas reveries meander, thee Yale, tide vignettes flash upon memory’s screen and disappear, iy petal they yet mark the trail of the friendly years, The first has its scene in Ottawa; year, the first of my ministerial life’ Am i my room in the Victoria Chambers, seated in an armchair, and it is Christmas Eve, Knock at door; which, opened, edmits e midget of e bell-boy with two little parcels in his hend, seid percels containing two pothetically cheap presents: "Fer Mr, Haley and Mary (elevator man and his charing daushter)—just a little Christmas vift, ‘cause I can’t afford very much, you see, bein’ as how I only eet four dollars week and no keep—an’, besides, me chum borrowed thirty cents off me to co ae z lacrosse match last fall an’ he ain’t paid me back al ports of benevolence and financial care. tiful—this mutual generosity of the poor, Four years have passed; and the scene is marvelously changed. No snow now. nor chiming sleigh-bells, nor resonant sidewalk crisp beneath the hurrying feet, But the December sun is pouring down upon a picnic party in the pine woods of North Carolina, those woods re-echoing to the shout and laughter of merry voices, most of which are silent now. Soon the stroke of an axe is heard, wielded by burly negro—and, a few minutes later, a tall holly tree crashes to the mossy ground its deep green foliage and eleamine berries slistening in the sun, Later still, x couple of darkies loaded like beasts of burden, the holly-laden party, a few with sreat bundles of the mystic mistletoe, are in Indian file makine their way to the boats, song re-echoing as we cross to the stately southern home, its fireplace lighted for the last hundred years and more, that crowns the river's farther bank Six more years have fled, after their relentless way. I am sitting beforé m own fire, north again, in ‘the hillgirt town.” We are at family worship, anid ix my lap there nestles a yolden-curled cirl of four, For nearly a week she ahd Thad followed the course of Santa Claus: “North Pole, Ft. Churchill, Hudson ‘Ba ‘Temagami, etc.” I reported from time to time. But ever comine closer! Ont reading that nicht, that trembling stocking night, is of the feeding of the nee thou sand, and the dialogue was as follows: 2 Wasn't that kind of him, my darling, to feed all those poor, hunery people?” “Yes," the clowing eyes averted one brief moment from the fire; “‘but, where do you suppose Santa Claus is now?” é ; Yet four more years have gone. It is Christmas here again, and I am driving back to town from a farm-house are the head of the home lies Christmas al- y P| i Fragmentary, unassorted, | the childish face showing equal Beautiful, this—and as common as beau- woes in agony, his . ri most at the door. The same childish form, taller and de- veloped now, is beside me in the cutter as we glide along, sleigh-bells merrier than their wont, stars a little brighter, mantle of snow touched with a holier sheen. Suddenly I feel the trembling of the girlish figure a little hand plucks at the sleeve of my coonskin coat, a curl-clustered head is burrowing into my side—and the sobbing * ofa child mingles with the music of the bells. I ask why, darkly suspecting that the cause is what I fear, that someone has given her to eat of the tree of the knowledge of fact and phan- tesy. It is even so—and the little form is quite shaken with grief as ‘This is the first Christ- mas that I didn’t know’’ comes fromthe trembilng lips. [canonly comfort and caress and murmur: “J ife is full of these awakenings, my darling,” and we go on thru the night that has lost, never to be restored, the wonder and the glory of a year before. And is it not wonderful how, when we ransack the bygone years, we find, not the creat and momentous thines unfaded, but mostly trifling little episodes __ABBOTSFORD, (SUMAS ‘AND MATSOQUI to the south are the plains i uth a plains in whose fields she gleaned “ami also David walked—"In glory and in joy at ake Following his sheep along the mountain side.” - On these plains, too, were the she night when the Angel of the Lord the birth of “Christ the Lord,”” ‘i Awa y to the horizon stand the purple hills of Moab, stillness lie the deep blue waters of the Dead Sea : OW t Ci d e] idi ‘ ee Jebel Fureidis, on the summit of which is the tomb of Herod Bale at, of exe crated memory, who, in Bethlehem at least, needs no such monu. "ee a memoriam of the Massacre of the Innocents, For 1 jles around may be seen rich olive and fig groves intermixed with apricot orchards and vineyards each with peo ‘ower as in ancient times. The hillsides are cultivated in terraces of 2 ging gardens,” and the stony plains are ploughed for cereal crops 2] ‘eee eer spy and closely built. The streets are generally narrow, with ses of two or three storeys, constructed of yellowish-white li ‘and te with flat roofs, The central eee ee al thoroughfare is occupied b: k: : see y workshops, whose fi arestrewn with menand material, The chiefindustry is the manuherrect onto , a al. chief industry is th “arti a aa ry is the manufacture of “articles 8 in olive wood, medallions fro; h it on shell and stone of incide he li Rta cite chester s nts from the life of our Lor: i jimi i wn eeyehce ona Sh rt ne-third of B “T eh, aes eal workers find The remainder are shepherds, ne tn “ats. The population, which is s Si? entirely Christian; and, apart Aige the Latin, Greek, and Armenian Set Eastern communities, AG Camvethlehemites are altogether the peter *) Malestine, and their sartorial appear- pee eee pee pa x bright-colored gown over a white shirt, ¥ ban or fez, The women’s chit Ss i 5 ief gar- ment ee eee tunic of blue cotton, tied at the waist, and relieved with a embroidered stole. The matrons are distingui the mai em a guished from the maidens by a differ- snteee arene of headdress; the married ladies wearing a sort of a adorn gold and silver sequins—their only dower—whil i i : ribbon in their hair, All the wo: i! easneiteae Gees : men have veils, but these are throw ibbo call i, yn back so as to falta See lines, about the figure, to which they lend a charming dignity. a ae d ne of the Bethlehemite woman is distinctly beautiful—not a bruz- , but with a bright, clear complexion, large eyes, and delicately sb " —and she carries herself so admirably as to appeal Of course, the supreme object of interest i the Nativity. Superstition , nd t a plication of sacred sites #rm 1B. ON alien corn; where pherds keeping watch over their flocks by , accompanied by the Heavenly Host, announced at whose feet in solemn Almost immediately above the finest human type to be tan eeinulation of jarring sects have led to the multi- . ac Holy Land. Many of these are doubtful, to say the least, and some are without question apocryphal. Fortun- ately, however, the place in- dicated with reverence as the Cave of the Nativity is not among these. Ancient, con- tinuous, and well-authenticat- ed tradition stamps this as one of the most genuine shrines in Palestine. The credibility of this tradition is supported by no less an authority than Conder, who observes in his “Tent Work in Palestine’ that “the rude grotto with its rocky manger may, it seems to me, be accepted even by the most ‘sceptical of modern explorers."” Within a generation of the death.of the last of the Apostles, Justin Martyr, himself a native of Nablus, speaks of the Saviour’s birth as having taken place “in a certain cave close to the village.’ The fact of its early sacredness is demonstrated by the method taken by Hadrian (A.D. 117-188) to desecrate it by causing a grove in honor of Adonis to be planted above the cave, so that pagan wanton rites might be performed over the very spot where the Holy Child Jesus was born. This grove was subsequently cut down by Constantine in order that the Empress Helena might rear (A.D. 306-337) the basilica which is still standing there, the most ancient Christian Church in the world, The Church of the Nativity embalmed in love, and nearly all linked to the vision of some childish face. Gone now, and far away, are those childish features, and the wonder of life has retreated before its strugele. In a home of her own, too, another fire lighted upon anew-laid hearth. Thus the holy cycle goes its way. Those curls have disappeared, and the locks are darker, yet no less dear. And surely, surely, there is no reason why she should not nestle as of yore upon that great throne of childhood, a father’s knee, and surely those locks could rest again where they reposed of old. Iam sorely tempted. The birds find that Southern path—and why not I? One year later still; and the peaceful happiness of a Christmas morning passes again before me. Breakfast over; a little hymn, a little prayer; a little gloating (thank God) over the rapture which I know the hurrying years are bound to shatter —and we stand athrill before the door of the room within which the laden tree awaits us. Entrance delightful as of yore—and then begins the giving and receiving. Some really beautiful gifts, no doubt, all forgotten now—but unforgotten, and un- lost or mislaid through the years, a little knitted bag (to hold some articles of toilet) handed to me by proud little daughter's hands, “The very first thing I ever did, daddy,” face aglow with childish pride, mine with fatherly compassion. Surely a f all our poor eifts and service, yet precious in larger, other reassuring parable o} eyes than ours!—R. E. Knowles. Cradle of Christian World Of all the clustering clouds of ravishing reminiscences associated with a world- tour of 35,000 miles, memory holds no other gem quite so delightfully exquisite as that of a visit to Bethlehem. No other spot on earth is richer in religious treasure or more radiant with romantic and well authenticated tradition. Viewed from any standpoint—topographical, historical, social or religious—Bethlehem is simply en- thralling. Every change in the kaleidoscope is wondrously fascinating, and dis- closes a perfect picture of idyllic grace and charm, Once more, as “The Season of the Birth of Christ draws near," the imagination of the world wil catching overtones | pastoral symphony; while the instinct of Christian mil- lions will turn to it in tenderest affection and truest veneration, The heart of mo- ic wonder, and finds its affinity with the primitive be centered there, dérn civilized man awakes in my Judean shepherd, saying, ‘‘Let us now go even unto Bethlehem.” The city walls have vanished; but the site of Bethlehem, determined by the Jong narrow mountain ridge, is precisely where it was 3,000 years ago. Entering the , the visitor has a magnificent view To the east slopes the Over the softly rising hills town at an elevation of 2,550 fect above the s ‘ef the surtounding country, opening out like a panorama. deep valley where Ruth “went down" in her sorrow. Early Christmas Morning—HAS SANTA COME YET? presents the outward appear- ance of a fortress. The huge central doorway has been almost entirely built up, leaving the only entrance by a “needle’s eye,"” which symbolically teaches each worshipper, at least, the virtue of humility. The interior is spacious but bare. The aisles have flat roofs above the pillars of red and white marble with Corinthian capitals, but the nave has a cleres- tory, with walls thirty feet above the capitals, and a pointed roof. A wall, built across the east end of the basilica, cuts off the chancel. Evidently at one time the entire church was richly adorned with gold and mosaics, of which some remnants still exist, but the ravages of time and the hand of the spoiler have left their marks. Underneath the choir, by a staircase of thirteen marble steps, the crypt containing the Chapel of the Nativity is reached. The Chapel—once a rude cave—is now paved and walled with marble, roofed with gold and silk \d lighted with fifty-three lamps. Immediately to the left is the shrine, unspeakably sacred to Christendom, From an arch about four feet high hang fifteen silver lamps, and in the centre of the floor is a silver star with the inscription ‘Hic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus Natus Est.” The site itself is infinitely touching, but as I gazed upon it an unspeakable ten- derness invested it by the presence of eight women robed in white praying silently and, in turn, kissing the star. I followed, and found the slab glistening with tears. Indescribably sad is it that this same silver star has a tale to tell not altogether of “peace and good-will to men!'’ That it should have been used as a wedge for sun- dering the peace of the world by war is one of those episodes the world would will- ingly forget 10-day. To-day we stand with the wondering shepherds and worship- ping magi by the spot where was witnessed the greatest event of all time—the Divine assumption of humanity. The world will never permit the tender idyll of Bethle- hem to dic, May it not forget the truth enshrined in the quaint old lines— “Though Christ a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, If He's not born in thee, thy soul is still forlorn, Oh, would thy heart be but a manger for His birth, God would once more become a Child upon the earth.” Tull Never Dte The Christmas Festival of goodwill, goodfellowship, and peace has lost none of its popularity in its passage through the ages. Nineteen hundred and twenty-five finds us welcoming it as heartily as did before railways, telephones, radios or auto- our ancestors a thousand years ago, mobiles were even dreamed about. It awakens dormant feelings and aspirations which the clamor of wordly life stifles and deadens. It opens deep springs of brotherhood and love, from whence flow desires to bless with gifts and good wishes Ooliter weather means keep the house fires warm and bright, And more fires met moro fire risk. This fs the time of the vear to mako su) PROTECTED, 2 2 be Fire Insurance In Sound Companies At Lowest ates ‘‘ Residence’? insurance is v¥ For the few dollars {t cost eer thats sand’? there is no excuse for being without it. Business insurance costs more—and the risk is higher, No matter what rate you get quo call on us—we can meet it. 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