The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1890, Page 47

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The Lutheran Pioneer. 47

Jessie’s Two Christmas Days. looking down the street. Suddenly she cried

out to me, ‘‘’Tis a-comin’, teacher, ’tis a-comin’.”
She was right. The prisoners’ wagon drove up
and stopped close by where we were standing.
The last that came out of the wagon was a most
wretched looking woman. Jessie pushed through
the crowd and cried out, ‘‘“Mother, mother, look
at me; I am here, your little girl!’’ The
mother looked confused at seeing her child
there.

Jessie went into the court, and I went on my
way, thinking of the dreadful account which
many parents must give unto God for their
children and of little Jessie’s sad Christmas day
and how happy she still was by faith in her dear
Saviour, and I prayed to Jesus to take care of
little Jessie in her early sorrows.

for His little Jessie. My Jesus, here am I—
lots of angels that sang at Bethlehem—I see
—teacher, kiss me. Tell Polly Bruce my
favorite text for a keepsake. There—re-
maineth—therefore—a rest—to the people—of
God. Jesus Jay in a manger—and I—shall lie
on His bosom—and wear—a crown of gold.”

She ceased to speak. I thought she was
sleeping. The daylight had gone away; the
room was dark; but when they had lit up the
gas, I saw that my Jessie’s happy spirit had
left her suffering body. Oh! I gladly would
have gone with my dear Jessie on that Christ-
mas day to the eternal joys of heaven. ‘There
shall be no night there; and they need no
candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord
God giveth them light; and they shall reign
for ever and ever.” Yes, it was a happy, a
happy Christmas day for my dear little Jessie.

I.

I went through Bow street one Christmas
morning. The snow had fallen thickly during
the night. The sky was clear, but the wind
was very cold, making me feel thankful to God
for warm clothing and good food. AsI walked
along, my eyes rested on a little girl about
nine years old. She was a scholar of a ragged
school where I had the honor of being a teacher.
She was standing by the police court and look-
ing down the street. I stopped and said to the
child: ‘‘Well, Jessie, dear, what are you doing
here, standing alone in this place, your little
face almost blue with cold?”’

‘Please, teacher,’’ said Jessie, ‘I’m a-watch-
ing for the big wagon what brings ’em up here
of a morning.’”’

“Brings whom, Jessie?’’

“Them prisoners, teacher, what’s took up by
the policemen in the streets of a night.’’

“But who is it you expect to see in the
prisoners’ wagon, my child?”’

“Tt’s mother,’’ said Jessie, looking grave
and sad.

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that, dear Jessie.
How did your mother get there?”’

‘Taint the first time, teacher. Last night
when I left school I was so happy, it was 80
nice. I was a-thinking of that sweet Christmas
story you told us from the Bible of the love of
God’s Son, who came from heaven to be our
Saviour and was born in Bethlehem as a little
child and was laid in a hard manger and took
all our sins upon Himself; and of the many
angels that sung to the shepherds on the field
that sweet Christmas song about glory to God
and peace on earth and good. will to all men.
Oh, it was nice, teacher. ‘I'll. tell mother
about it,’ I thought. When I got home I ran
up stairs, but the door was locked, and mother
wasn't there. I knew then, that she had gone
out to get drunk. I sat up all of a heap across
our door, thinkin’ if I got to sleep and mother

came home she would be sure to tumble over
me and see that I was there. And I soon
dreamt of the angels that sang in the Christ-
mas night, and I dreamt of mother too.
Mother ain’t unkind, teacher; but after father
died she took to drinkin’. I loves her and I
pray to Jesus to take that wicked drink away
from her.”’

“That’s right, Jessie; I am glad you pray
to Jesus. ‘Tell Him everything. Did your
mother come home at last?”’

‘No, teacher, she didn’t. Whenit got day-
light I went out of the house and went about
the market and picked up bits of orange peel
to eat. I didn’t have no supper last night, and
no breakfast this morning. I’m so hungry and
80 cold.”

I went over to a shop and came back with
something to eat. ‘‘Here, Jessie, here is a
little Christmas gift for you.’? A smile crossed
her little white face as she said thanks and
began to eat, whilst her eyes were still eagerly

I.

Four years have passed by. It is Christmas
day again—a cold winter afternoon. The day
is fine, and the sum is peeping out for a little
while, just to cheer the ward in the infirmary,
where many poor women and children are
lying very ill. In a corner of the room by the
window, on a little hard bed, is a young girl.
She looks about thirteen years of age. Her
face, though thin, is very sweet and pretty.
I pass on softly by each bed, giving a nod and
a smile to the suffering. The nurse came up
to me and said—

“Your Jessie is dying, ma’am.”’

‘‘Aush, hush, nurse!’’ I said; ‘don’t speak
so loud; the child will hear you.”

‘My Jessie’’ did hear the remark, and said
to me: “Never mind, teacher; it’s all right.
I am very, very happy.”

“‘My darling, if I had a home, I would take
you to it; you should not die here.”

“Come closer to me, teacher dear; my eyes
are getting so dim. I can’t see you, but I
know your voice so well. Iknow’tis you. I
want to tell you something. There are lots of
women here, and they are very ill, but they
don’t love Jesus. They swear, and it frightens
me. I have talked to them when I could, and
told them about the loving Saviour, who came
into the world to save all sinners—you know
that sweet Christmas story, teacher, I told them
all about it, and that I believed in that Saviour,
and that He had taken away all my sins and
that I was going to heaven to be with Jesus
forever. Dear teacher, I don’t fret that I am
here. There was no room for the little Jesus
in the inn, and He was laid in a hard manger
ina stable. You won't leave me?”’

“No, darling,’ I said, ‘I will not leave you.””

She seemed to be dozing a little. And as I
looked at her, my thoughts ran back to that
snowy Christmas morning four years before,
when I had found little Jessie shivering in the
cold, watching for the prisoners’ wagon in Bow
street.

She soon opened her eyes and said—
‘<*Tig a-comin’, teacher, ’tis a-comin’!”?
“What, dear?”

“A beautiful gold carriage, Jesus is sendin’

——> +4 oro

On Christmas Day,

in the year 1538, Doctor Martin Luther was
very joyous, and all his sayings, songs, and
thoughts were about the birth of Christ our
Saviour. And he said, with a deep sigh, ‘‘Ah!
we poor human creatures, how coldly and
tamely we greet this joy which has come to
bless us! This is the great act of love which
far excels all works of creation. And shall we
so feebly believe it, when it has been announced
to us, preached, and sung by the angels?
Heavenly theologians and preachers, indeed!
And they have rejoiced on our account and
their song is verily a glorious song, wherein is
briefly enfolded the sum of the whole Christian
religion. For the ‘Glory to God in the highest’
is the highest worship, and this they bring to
us in this Christ.

0 0

Accept the Tidings!

The Christmas tidings, says Luther, require
faith which accepts them as true, and firmly
holds against all doubts, that the Saviour is
surely born. This faith quiets the heart, £0
that thou wilt not charge God with falsehood
through thy unbelief, as they do who refuse to
believe and thus lose their Saviour. Where
this faith is wanting, Christ, as the Son of Gud,
is denied by those who will not confess their
sins, nor acknowledge Him as their Saviour, as
well as by those who feel their condemnation
and confess their guilt, but do not faithfully
receive the consolation, that Christ is their
Saviour.

_——— oP oe oe -

Unto You a Saviour is Born.

That is, God’s wrath, damnation, and eternal
death shall no longer threaten you, but rather,
through the obedience of the Son of God who
is born for you, there is prepared for you re-
conciliation with God, forgiveness of sins, and
everlasting salvation and freedom from all that
oppresses and saddens your heart.—auther.