“Mother,” whispered the boy again, laying his finger on the stains upon
her breast, “see, your dress is red! What are these stains? Did some one
hurt you?”
The mother closed his mouth with a kiss. “Dear, be still, and listen!”
The boy obeyed. His eyes were heavy with sleep. But he heard the last
words of Winfried as he spoke of the angelic messengers, flying over the
hills of Judea and singing as they flew. The child wondered and dreamed
and listened. Suddenly his face grew bright. He put his lips close to
Irma’s cheek again.
“Oh, mother!” he whispered very low, “do not speak. Do you hear them?
Those angels have come back again. They are singing now behind the
tree.”
And some say that it was true; but others say that it was only Gregor
and his companions at the lower end of the hall, chanting their
Christmas hymn:
All glory be to God on high,
And on the earth be peace!
Good-will, henceforth, from heaven to man,
Begin and never cease.
End of Project Gutenberg’s The Blue Flower, and Others, by Henry van Dyke
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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