Tárogató, 1938-1939 (1. évfolyam, 1-10. szám)
1939-01-01 / 7-8. szám
TÁROGATÓ IS ulate room in her dwelling for the use of weary travellers. Her little nieces and nephews knew the story and when asked they would tell it —after which Rebekah would say sadly. “I lost my richest blessing by being selfish and forgetting the poor—Mary comforted me and told me I was forgiven—but never again will I seek for gold when I can do a kindly deed.” THE FIRST CHRISTMAS ROSE. Adapted jrom an Old Legend. The sun had dropped below the western hills of Judea, and the stillness of night had covered the earth. The heavens were illumined only by numberless stars, which shone the brighter for the darkness of the sky. No sound was heard but the occasional howl of a jackal or the bleat of a lamb in the sheepfold. Inside a tent on the hillside slept the shepherd, Berachah, and his daughter, Made- Ion. The little girl lay restless,—sleeping, waking, dreaming, until at last she roused herself and looked about her. “Father,” she whispered, “Oh, my father, awake. I fear for the sheep.” The shepherd turned himself and reached for his staff. “What hearest thou, daughter? The dogs are asleep. Hast thou been burdened by an evil dream?” “Nay, but father,” she answered, “seest thou not the light? Hearest thou not the voice?” Berachah gathered his mantle about him, rose, looked over the hills toward Bethlehem, and listened. The olive trees on yonder slope were casting their shadows in a marvelous light, unlike daybreak or sunset, or even the light of the moon. By the campfire below on the hillside the shepherds on watch were rousing themselves. Berachah waited and wondered, while Madelon clung to his side. Suddenly a sound rang out In the stillness. Madelon pressed still closer. “It is the voice of an angel, my daughter. What it means I know not. Neither understand I this light.” Berachah fell on his knees and prayed. “Fear not; for,-behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you. Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” The voice of the angel died away, and the air was filled with music. Berachah raised Madelon to her feet. “Ah, daughter,” said he, “it is the wonder night so long expected. To us hath it been given to see the sign. It is the Messiah who hath come, the Messiah whose name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. He it is who shall reign on the throne of David, he it is who shall redeem Israel.” Slowly up the hillside toiled the shepherds to the tent of Berachah, their chief, who rose to greet them eagerly. “What think you of the wonder night and of the sign?” he queried. “Are we not above all others honored, thus to learn of the Messiah’s coming?” “Yea, and Berachah,” replied their spokesman, Simon, “believest thou not that we shall worship the infant King? Let us now go to Bethlehem, and see this thing which has come to pass.” A murmer of protest came from the edge of the circle, and one or two turned impatiently away, whispering of duty toward flocks and the folly of searching for a new-born baby in the city of Bethlehem. Hardheaded, practical men were these, whose hearts had not been touched by vision or by song. The others, however, turned expectantly toward Berachah, awaiting his decision. “Truly,” said Jude, “The angel of the Lord hath given us the sign in order that we might go to worship Him. How can we then do otherwise? We shall find Him, as we have heard, lying in a manger. Let us not tarry, but let us gather our choicest treasures to lay at His feet, and set out without delay across the hills toward Bethlehem.” “Oh, my father,” whispered Madelon, “permit me to go with thee.” Berachah did not hear her, but turned and bade the men gather together their gifts. “I, too, father?” asked Madelon. Still Berachah said nothing. Madelon slipped back into the tent, and throwing her arms around Melampo, her shepherd dog, whispered in his ear. Soon the shepherds returned with their gifts. Simple treasures they were, a pair of doves, a fine wool blanket, some eggs, some honey, some late autumn fruits. Berachah had searched for the finest of his flock,—a snow-white lamb. Across the hill toward Bethlehem in the quiet, star-lit night they journeyed. As they moved silently along, the snow beneath their feet was changed to grass and flowers, and the icicles which had dropped from the trees covered their pathway like
