Up and down the roads she hurried, through
woods and fields and towns, saying to whomsoever she met: "I go to
find the Christ Child. Where does he lie? I bring some pretty toys for
His sake."
But no one could tell her the way to go, and they all said: "Farther
on, Babouscka, farther on." So she traveled on, and on, and on for
years and years--but she never found the little Christ Child.
They say that old Babouscka is traveling still, looking for Him. When
it comes Christmas eve, and the children are lying fast asleep,
Babouscka comes softly through the snowy fields and towns, wrapped in
her long cloak and carrying her basket on her arm. With her staff she
raps gently at the doors and goes inside and holds her candle close to
the little children's faces.
"Is He here?" she asks. "Is the little Christ Child here?" And then
she turns sorrowfully away again, crying: "Farther on, farther on."
But before she leaves she takes a toy from her basket and lays it
beside the pillow for a Christmas gift. "For His sake," she says
softly and then hurries on through the years and forever in search of
the little Christ Child.
[*] From "For the Children's Hour," by Bailey and Lewis. Used by
permission of the authors and also the publishers--Milton Bradley
Company.
THE BOY WITH THE BOX
By Mary Griggs Van Voorhis
It was an ideal Christmas day.
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