Star over Bethlehem - Agatha Christie [0]
Bethlehem
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Poems and Holiday Stories
Illustrations by Elise Wrigley
For Hydie
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Star over Bethlehem
A Greeting
STAR OVER BETHLEHEM
A Wreath for Christmas
THE NAUGHTY DONKEY
Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh
THE WATER BUS
IN THE COOL OF THE EVENING
Jenny by the Sky
PROMOTION IN THE HIGHEST
The Saints of God
THE ISLAND
The Road of Dreams
A MASQUE FROM ITALY
BALLADS
DREAMS AND FANTASIES
OTHER POEMS
Poems
THINGS
PLACES
LOVE POEMS AND OTHERS
VERSES OF NOWADAYS
About the Author
Praise
Other Works
Back Ad
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
STAR OVER BETHLEHEM
A Greeting
Praise to the Yule Log!
Leap, Flames, merrily.
Hail to the Wassail Bowl!
Bubble, Wine, rosily!
In the Manger lies the Child;
Asses, Oxen, braying, lowing,
Cackling Hens and Cocks a’crowing.
Overfull the Inn to-night,
Up above a star shines bright,
Shepherds kneel beside their fold,
Wise Men bring their gifts of Gold,
Angels in the Sky above
Trumpet forth God’s gift of Love.
Waken, children, one and all,
Wake to hear the trumpet call,
Leave your sleeping, ’tis the Day,
Christmas, glorious Christmas Day!
Star over Bethlehem
Mary looked down at the baby in the manger. She was alone in the stable except for the animals. As she smiled down at the child her heart was full of pride and happiness.
Then suddenly she heard the rustling of wings and turning, she saw a great Angel standing in the doorway.
The Angel shone with the radiance of the morning sun, and the beauty of his face was so great that Mary’s eyes were dazzled and she had to turn aside her head.
Then the Angel said (and his voice was like a golden trumpet):
“Do not be afraid, Mary …”
And Mary answered in her sweet low voice:
“I am not afraid, Oh Holy One of God, but the Light of your Countenance dazzles me.”
The Angel said: “I have come to speak to you.”
Mary said: “Speak on, Holy One. Let me hear the commands of the Lord God.”
The Angel said: “I have come with no commands. But since you are specially dear to God, it is permitted that, with my aid, you should look into the future …”
Then Mary looked down at the child and asked eagerly:
“Into his future?”
Her face lit up with joyful anticipation.
“Yes,” said the Angel gently. “Into his future … Give me your hand.”
Mary stretched out her hand and took that of the Angel. It was like touching flame—yet flame that did not burn. She shrank back a little and the Angel said again:
“Do not be afraid. I am immortal and you are mortal, but my touch shall not hurt you …”
Then the Angel stretched out his great golden wing over the sleeping child and said:
“Look into the future, Mother, and see your Son …”
And Mary looked straight ahead of her and the stable walls melted and dissolved and she was looking into a Garden. It was night and there were stars overhead and a man was kneeling, praying.
Something stirred in Mary’s heart, and her motherhood told her that it was her son who knelt there. She said thankfully to herself: “He has become a good man—a devout man—he prays to God.” And then suddenly she caught her breath, for the man had raised his face and she saw the agony on it—the despair and the sorrow … and she knew that she was looking on greater anguish than any she had ever known or seen. For the man was utterly alone. He was praying to God, praying that this cup of anguish might be taken from him—and there was no answer to his prayer. God was absent and silent …
And Mary cried out:
“Why does not God answer him and give him comfort?”
And she heard the voice of the Angel say:
“It is not God’s purpose that he should have comfort.”
Then Mary bowed her head meekly and said: “It is not for us to know the inscrutable purposes of God. But has this man—my son—has he no friends? No kindly human friends?”
The Angel rustled his wing and the picture dissolved into another part of the Garden and Mary saw some men lying asleep.
She said bitterly: