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Vol.
XIII
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PASADENA. CALIFORNIA, DECEMBER 16, 1921
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No. 13
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PRINCE OF PEACE
It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth.
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good-will to
men,
From heavens all-gracious King:”
The world in solemn stillness lay
To h ear the angels sing.
ADESTE FIDELES
O, come, all ye faithful.
Joyful and triumphant,
O, come ye,
О
come ye to Bethle¬
hem;
Come and behold him
Born, the King of Angels;
О
come, let us adore Him,
О
come, let us adore Him,
О
come, let us adore Him,
Christ, the Lord.
ШЦе
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HERALD ANGELS
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earth, and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconcil' d!”
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Joyful, all ye nations 'rise.
Join the triumph of the skies;
With the angelic host proclaim,
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" Christ is born in Bethlehem.”
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BETHLEHEM
Hark! The herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King.
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О
little town of Bethlehem!
How still we see thee he;
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by;
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee to-night.
GABRIEL
shepherds watch'd
the
HOLY NIGHT
Holy night, peaceful night,
Through the darkness beams a light.
Yonder, where they sweet vigils
keep,
O' er the Babe who, m silent sleep,
Rests in heavenly peace.
Rests in heavenly peace.
While
flocks by night
All seated on the ground,
The angel of the Lord came down,
And glory shone around.
"Fear not,” said he, for mighty
dread
Had seized their troubled mind;
“ Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind.”
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REALLY
don’t know
of any fam¬
ily that IS in
need this
Christmas.’’
Miss Lucy
looked with
serious eyes
across the
a s t
table at her
father. “Ev¬
erybody is getting' along so well it
seems.
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table at
Her father smiled. “Look around
a little, daughter, you will find
plenty of people needing held.’’
Meanwhile, in a slum tenement
lay a small invalid boy; beside him
sat his sister softly singing a lul¬
laby. At the last note the door
opened, and a worn, tired, woman
entered.
“Oh, mommy,” the girl rose and
fled across the room to the woman,
“Mommy, I jist got Jim to sleep,
now let’s plan his Crissmus.”
The woman smiled wearily, and
looked at the thin, white face on
the cot.
“I’m afraid, Angeline,” she said,
“I’m afraid li’l Jim ain’t gonna have
no Crissmus. I ain’t got but jist a
little money left fer food.”
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A (Eljnstmaa i>tory
“An’ we were jist a-plannin’ it
afore he went ter sleep.” Angeline
crossed the room, and looked down
into the sleeping face which wore
a smile.
“Poor li’l Jim,” she said, “why,
mom, I think he’s dreamin’ of it
now, jist see his smile! He’s gotta
have a Crissmus ; he don’t ever have
anything; he’s jist gotta have a
Crissmus.” And Angeline ran from
the room.
Once outside she paced up and
down, her mind on Jim’s happy
face, as they had talked of Christ¬
mas. Then her eyes fell on the
“speeler,” so called by the children
of the slum. This character was a
man, who walked the streets
preaching about God.
“ — and if there’s anything you
ever want just ask God, He will
give it to you.
Angeline crept to the man’s side.
“Where,” she whispered, “where
kin I find God?”
The man looked down with pity¬
ing eyes. “There,” he pointed to a
stone edifice, “there is the House of
God.” He was going to say more,
but Angeline losing no time, ran to
the building and paused. She was
a bit frightened at entering a
strange house, but remembering
that this was the only way, she
slowly mounted the steps, and find¬
ing the doors opened, entered.
“My, ain’t it purty?”
Angelme stood lost in wonder¬
ment at the beauty of the church.
The tall brass candlesticks, the
laces on the altar, the dark, shining
woodwork, everything seemed a
thing of elegance to Angeline.
“Gee, he must be orful rich to
have all this, mebbe he kin git
somethin' real nice fer Jim then.”
She walked slowly down the
aisle. “Wander where God is,” she
murmured.
Miss Lucy, tired of walking,
slipped into the church, unseen, for
a moment’s rest. Then as she saw
the little figure, she watched the
rapt little face, and unnoticed fol¬
lowed the child.
Angelme reaching the altar, stood
before a life size statue of Mother
Mary clasping the Babe.
“God ain’t here today,” she said,
“I guess this is Mrs. God.” And
she moved nearer the figure and
smiled.
“Mrs. God,” she began, “Jim,
he won’t have no Crissmus this
year, I wonder if you could help us.
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Jim, he’s my little brother, what
can’t walk, and he never has any¬
thing, but he always smiles cause
he thinks mebbe sometime — ” Here
Angelme paused and wiped a tear,
“but anyway I wondered if you
could perhaps,” Angeline paused,
expecting some comment, but get¬
ting none she went on, “You got a
nice baby there, Mrs. God, I s’pose
he has everything though. Perhaps
there’s somethin’ he don’t want any
more. Jim, he likes anything.” An¬
geline stopped here, but getting no
word she turned and left the
church.
Miss Lucy smiled and rose.
Christmas morning found not only
Jim with all kinds of toys and gifts,
but Angelme with a beautiful doll
and clothes for herself, and the
mother with new things to wear.
Besides a basket filled with good
things for the dinner.
When the excitement at first
finding the gifts was over, the moth¬
er said, “A purty lady brought ’em
last night, who — ”
But Angeline smiled from the
bedside.
“I know who it was,” she said,
smoothing the bright curls of the
doll, “it was Mrs. God.”
— By Eva Puffer.
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