The Eighth Tribe, 1977 (4. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1977-12-01 / 12. szám
Page 4 THE EIGHTH TRIBE December, 1977 added suddenly, reaching for an old torn burlap sack which was lying there on the floor ‘take this, too, and don’t worry whether you see something in it or not. Only after you have reached home, and rubbed some of the ointment over your eyes, and the eyes of all your family, then only open this sack. Now go in peace!” “Well, the poor woodsman put the strange little jar into his pocket” went on Grandmother with her story, “and he even threw the torn old sack over his shoulders, just to please the old woman. Then he said goodnight, and left. But as he reached the dark timber again, he became curious. He took the little jar from his pocket, opened it, and reached in with one finger. He felt the cool of the ointment with the tip of his finger. Then he withdrew his finger, and touched with it his eyes. Dear God, what a miracle! When he opened his eyes again, his mouth fell open! For in the very place where the little snow-covered clearing had been there was a large meadow full of flowers, and in the middle of the meadow, gleaming in the sunshine a beautiful fairycastle! In the golden gate of the castle, instead of the little old woman, there stood a beautiful angel, the Lord Jesus’ Christmas angel in person, smiling gently and waving good bye! “God only knows how long he would have stood there, staring in amazement, if he had not remembered suddenly the old torn sack on his shoulders. A glance at the sack... and what a miracle! Instead of the old torn burlap sack there was a big, shiny golden sack hanging from his shoulders, loaded with all sorts of things, like apples, and oranges, and little red boots, warm winter coats, and many, many beautiful toys! “Full of excitement, the woodsman began to run down the slope with the big heavy golden sack on his shoulders. He ran through the village, and nearly fell into his house. ‘Wife! Children! Come and see what I got!’ But they just looked at him with sour faces. ‘So what you got, eh?’ the woman shrugged with contempt ‘an old bag full of holes, that’s what!’ “For one moment the poor woodsman just stood there, shorked, in the middle of the room. Then he suddenly remembered the little jar in his pocket. ‘Hey, come here everybody’ he said. Opening the little jar he rubbed some of the ointment over the eyes of his wife, and of all his children. As he did this, the room around them began to glow and sparkle. ‘Oh whaat a beautiful golden sack!’ the children exclaimed, ‘Let’s see what’s in it! Let’s see!’ They all laughed, and crowded around him joyfully. Even his wife had a sweet smile on her face. So the woodsman put the golden sack on the table, and began to hand out all the many wonderful things that were in it. Everybody got something that he or she had been wanting for ever so long a time. There were all sorts of good things to eat, too. The house was filled with joy and laughter, clear up to the roof-top. ‘There are so many good things here’ the woodsman’s wife said suddenly, ‘let’s share them with our neighbors!’ “At once she filled a big basket with apples, cakes and other good things, and took them over to the neighbors. The man just stood in amazement, for such a thing had never happened before! Indeed, the entire village was amazed. Because from that very day on life has changed completely in the woodsman’s home. There was laughter, and singing, and joking, all the day long, and there was so much joy and happiness that everyone who just came near felt happy. People in the village became so fond of the poor woodsman and his family, that soon they elected him to be the mayor of the village. Of course, he was not poor anymore, because he had joy in his heart, and so did his wife and all his children... and they lived happily ever after.. .” Grandmother’s story ended here, and deep silence fell over the room. Only the peaceful sound of the fire could be heard from the fireplace. Then my little cousin Margit, just four years old, let out a deep, longing sigh beside me on the rug. “Grandmother” she said “I would like some of that ointment, too.. !” Grandmother smiled at her, and I noticed a twinkle behind her eyeglasses. “Well, my dear” she said “that’s easy! The angel of the Lord gave everyone of us a tiny bit of that miracle-ointment, on our very first birthday. Sometimes it is hard to find, of course, since it had to be well hidden so we don’t lose it. Come closer, let me see...” Margit drew closer to her rockin’ chair, and looking down, she examined her carefully. We held our breath in awe. Then suddenly she exclaimed. “Here it is! Right behind your ear! Give me your finger!” Margit reached up her hand eagerly. Grandmother took hold of one of her fingers, and placed it gently behind her ear. We watched it with our mouth open. “Can you feel it? It’s like very fine oil on the tip of your finger as you carefully touch that one spot right behind your ear... can you feel it?” Our little cousin’s face lit up. “Yes, yes!” she exclaimed “I feel it! I feel it!”
