And as he read, a
slight motion of the hand or a glance of an eye made us see, as he
was seeing, that whole radiant drama. The wonder, the timid joy,
the tenderness, the mystery of it all, were borne in upon us with
overpowering effect. He closed the book, and in the same low, clear
voice went on to tell us how, in his home years ago, he used to stand on
Christmas Eve listening in thrilling delight to his mother telling him
the story, and how she used to make him see the shepherds and hear the
sheep bleating near by, and how the sudden burst of glory used to make
his heart jump.
'I used to be a little afraid of the angels, because a boy told me they
were ghosts; but my mother told me better, and I didn't fear them any
more. And the Baby, the dear little Baby--we all love a baby.' There was
a quick, dry sob; it was from Nelson. 'I used to peek through under
to see the little one in the straw, and wonder what things swaddling
clothes were. Oh, it was all so real and so beautiful!' He paused, and I
could hear the men breathing.
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