O, how that wound pained him! Wonder if the ambulance isn't coming soon? He could hear the cries of the other wounded; perhaps that was when they were lifted up from the ground. Would no one find him? He could not stir, could not call--could only gaze at the distant stars. Was there room for him up there? Yes, for he was sure death was approaching. "Mother," he whispered, "mother--O God--take my soul--now, just before Christmas--for the sake of Jesus Christ!" The angels came, and they carried him to heaven. His prayer had been heard up there. His child's soul was carried upward to God. * * * * * When the famous French preacher, Adolphe Monod, was asked what had been the cause of his greatest gratitude, he said: "_I thank God that He hath given me the faith of a little child._" The main thing for him was not that God had given him a great task as a preacher and a theologian, but that He had given him the faith of a little child. That means: The faith that accepts the grace of God _without making objections_!-- O, thou great and rich and powerful people: Lay aside all thy bustle, all thy doubts, and all thy suspicion toward God--lay it aside, all of it, and accept the joyful tidings of Christmas with the faith of a little child--without making objections. Then thou wilt be glad. The well known French writer, Larradan, whose pen formerly had written nothing but scorn against faith, during the war implored his people to return to the Christian faith as the only firm and saving foothold. He writes: "I laughed at faith and thought myself cocksure. Now I no longer rejoice at my scornful laughter, for I see France bleeding and weeping. I stood at the wayside and saw the soldiers. They went out to meet death--rejoicing. I asked: What makes you so calm? And they began praying to God saying: 'We believe in God!' I counted the sacrifices of our people, and noticed that they bore them praying. Then it became clear to me that there was something comforting and sustaining in recognizing an eternal home-country, when that of the earth is glowing in the fire of hatred. This feeling is science--the science of the child.... A nation must despair if it does not believe that the torment of the earth can be exchanged for the joy of Heaven.... France was great in the days of yore. But that was a France which had faith. How about France in our own age? It is torn to pieces with want and suffering. It is a France that believes no longer. Will her future brighten? At the hand of God--only at the hand of God.--France, O, France, revert to the faith, to thy most beauteous days! To go away from God is to perish!..." _I thank God that He hath given me the faith of a little child! THOUGHTS FOR THE NEW YEAR 1. _To See Like the Angels_