"Only there were some wise men who had read about the baby that was coming someday, and the star that was coming to point the way. And away off in a desert somewhere they saw the star and followed it and finally found the little baby and worshipped Him. They prayed to Him. Sometime, pretty soon when you can talk, we'll teach you how to pray to Him, too. You have a great deal to thank Him for when you get old enough to understand, and we're going to teach you all about it. But now, today, it's important for you to know about this baby that was born, and about the wise men who came on camels to see Him, and about the shepherds on the hillside taking care of their little woolly lambs. You see some of the shepherds had heard there was a baby coming, and one night when they sat by the fire on the hillside under the starlight, with little stars sprinkled all around the big sky, they saw a great big light, and while they were wondering a bright angel came stepping down gold stairs in the sky, and they were very much afraid, but the angel told them not to be afraid for he was bringing some happy news for everybody, because Jesus, the Savior, the little Christ, was born right then that night, over in the little town of Bethlehem, and if they wanted to see Him they could go right over there now and they would find Him laying in a manger, in a stable, with just little plain clothes on, the kind all babies wear. Just like the little clothes Mommy Dale put on you. And then all of a sudden there were a whole lot of angels stepping down the sky, singing out just the way those pretty bells sing out, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men!' You must ask Mommy to teach you that someday so you can say it for me. Perhaps not next Christmas, but very likely the next. And so when the angels went away the shepherds began to talk. They said, 'C'mon, fellas, let's go over there and see if this thing that God has sent us word about has really happened.' So they went, and they found it all true. There was the little Jesus lying in a manger in the nice soft straw, and there was His Mommy Mary right beside Him, just like your Mommy Dale is right here beside us now, and there was Joseph waiting on them and taking care of them. And so those shepherds were so happy their little Christ, King Jesus had really come at last that they kneeled down and worshipped Him. And oh, how they loved Him! They wished they had a lot of nice presents to bring Him, but they didn't have anything to bring, so they gave Him their own selves, and then because they couldn't do anything else for Him they went out back to the pasture and their sheep, but they told everybody they met about the Christ having been born. And that's what you and I and everybody who knows and loves the little Lord Jesus must do. We must go out and tell everybody we meet that the Christ Savior has come, and why He came, because we all have sinned. He came to be a sacrifice for our sins, so that everybody could be forgiven who would believe on Him.
"And now, son, we'll just say a little verse together, you and I and Mommy Dale, too, if she wants to. It is called John 3:16. I learned it this morning, and so can you if you try. We'll say it three times, and then we'll take a walk across the room and look at the pretty balls on the tree and hear the bells ring 'Glory,' and then it will be time for your bottle. Now, say it: 'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.'"
The baby blinked, gave a faint smile, and gurgled sweetly. Dale wondered if the angels were listening to this extraordinary talk to a tiny child. Could it be possible that there was anything in what George had said, that you couldn't begin too young? Certainly a wee baby like that could not understand, and yet, he was gathering a vocabulary. Even scientists admitted that very young children began at once to store up words in their minds. Well, it was a sweet thing to hear George talk to the baby. Of course it could do no harm, and might perhaps lay a foundation, if only with the name of Jesus, the word Savior.
They went to church again that night, for Sarah in view of the holiday she was promised on the morrow was only too willing to stay quietly with the baby. And on the way home they encountered more than one group of carolers singing in the streets. When they were at last getting to their rest they heard sweet voices singing down below their window: "Christ the Savior is born."
Then as the midnight hour struck, wild and sweet, the bells began to repeat the old sweet carol:
When marshalled on the nightly plain,
The glittering host bestud the sky,
One star alone of all the train,
Can fix the sinner's wandering eye.
Hark! Hark! To God the chorus breaks
For every host, from every gem;
But one alone the Savior 'speaks--
It is the star of Bethlehem.
Dale as she drifted off to sleep wondered if there ever had been such a dear Christmas Eve as this, and then began remembering back to the days when she was a little girl and stars and trees and lovely dolls and other presents bulked large in her little-girl mind and her mother's kiss was sweet on her lips, her father's loving voice in her ears. Yes, there had been dear Christmases before. But perhaps it was that there had been a long interval of darkness and sadness, and great loneliness, and now life seemed to have blended the sweet old things with the new, and Christmas was still Christmas, dear and sweet, and brighter than any other day of the year, yet with a meaning for eternity that other days did not have, and never could have, perhaps, unless it was Easter.
Then suddenly Rand, whom she had thought asleep, spoke out of the darkness: "Dale are you asleep?"
"Oh, no, just dreaming of the marvelous day. What is it?"
"Dale, did you notice the little poem in the sermon tonight?"
"Yes, wasn't it lovely? I wanted to write it down but didn't have a pencil. I wonder if we could remember it."
"Well, I know the last two lines," said Rand. "I remembered them because they seemed to fit my case. 'I only know the manger-child has brought new life to me.' "
"Oh," said Dale. "Wait! I thought I'd remember that first line. I tried to memorize it as he repeated it. 'I know not how--' it began. Yes, that's it.
'I know not how that Bethlehem's Babe
Could in the Godhead be;
I only know the manger-child
Has brought new life to me.' "
"That's it, Dale. I'm glad you remembered it. I somehow wanted to go on record with you tonight, our first Christmas Eve together, that the manger-child really has brought new life to me. And I guess that is why our little fellow was sent to us. To bring me all the way to God, and help me to understand."
"Oh, George, dear, isn't He wonderful?" said Dale softly, reaching over and slipping her hand into his.
"And now," said Rand after another few minutes, "what are we going to call that kid? We've got to have a name for the adoption papers next week, you know. It seems as if it ought to be something significant. Don't you think so?"
"Oh, yes!" she breathed. "It seems as if there isn't any name good enough for him!"
"Well, what would you think of Ransom? It means 'redeemed,' you know. The only trouble is, it's my redemption, not his."
"Oh, but you're mistaken," cried Dale. "It would mean the baby's redemption, too. Don't you see? For suppose he had lain in Mrs. Beck's hall till she called the police, or had been sent to a home where they didn't know the Lord, and they let him grow up wild without knowing God. Suppose he had never found anybody who loved him or knew the Lord? It was the baby's redemption, for now as long as the Lord lets him stay with us, he'll be taught every day about Him. We'll have to study the Bible and help him to grow up knowing the truth. And it will be in commemoration of the night he was saved, from physical death, and spiritual, too."
"Yes," said Rand. "I thought of that, too, only I didn't know how to say it. I only wish we knew if the little white mother in the cemetery knew God."
"Well, we've nothing to do with that of course. God knows, and someday He will tell us and explain it all, how everything happened, and we'll be glad that it brought redemption and a new life to us as well as to the little beloved child. Yes, I like the name Ransom. It g
oes well with ours, too. Ransom Rand! That sounds very good. And when he goes to school they'll call him Rannie."
"Yes," said Rand. "Until he gets to high school, and then they'll call him 'Rand' of course and won't know what it's all about. But we'll be sure that he understands, himself, that his name means redemption, and the redemption of more than one! We'll try to teach him that he owes it to the One who was born on Christmas Day to save him, that he should dedicate his life to saving others. He can write like his foster father, or he can be in business as his play mother was, or he can do any of the things that God puts in the way of doing, but he must always remember that first and before everything else he must always be telling others about the wonderful Savior, the baby Jesus, who was born to redeem him and others. He must always bear about in his mind the real meaning of his name, Ransom. Redemption! Isn't that good, Dale?"
"Yes, that is good!" said Dale. "There couldn't be a better name for the little boy he is. Oh, George, it is so wonderful that you who haven't been sure about your salvation till just these last few days, should know how to talk this way. I suppose it's because you're a writer and know how to say things."
"Think again, sweetheart! I had a mother who knew God well, and a father who, I believe, really loved Him, and they talked before me. I had a background of that sort. I don't remember how early they began to talk before me. My trouble was that I liked the world and wouldn't give in till God gave me trouble and disappointment for teachers. But I guess it doesn't just have to be that way. It's because we choose the way of trouble ourselves rather than to give up our own way."
They talked a long time, till dawn began to creep up the sky-way, and then softly below the open window a carol began to rise:
"This is the winter morn,
Our Savior Christ was born,
Who left the realms of endless day
To take our sins away!
Have ye no carol for the Lord,
To tell His love, His love abroad?"
"Dale, we'll have to make our lives a carol. Can't we?" said Rand as he turned on his pillow and prepared for sleep.
"We can," said Dale solemnly, "and we will, please God!"
GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL (1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.
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