{"product_id":"2940013191358","title":"A Little Book for Christmas","description":"There was a time when the spirit of Christmas was of the present. There\u003cbr\u003eis a period when most of it is of the past. There shall come a day\u003cbr\u003eperhaps when all of it will be of the future. The child time, the\u003cbr\u003epresent; the middle years, the past; old age, the future.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCome to my mind Christmas Days of long ago. As a boy again I enter into\u003cbr\u003ethe spirit of the Christmas stockings hanging before my fire. I know\u003cbr\u003ewhat the children think to-day. I recall what they feel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePasses childhood, and I look down the nearer years. There rise before\u003cbr\u003eme remembrances of Christmas Days on storm-tossed seas, where waves beat\u003cbr\u003eupon the ice-bound ship. I recall again the bitter touch of\u003cbr\u003ewater-warping winter, of drifts of snow, of wind-swept plains. In the\u003cbr\u003egamut of my remembrance I am once more in the poor, mean, lonely little\u003cbr\u003esanctuary out on the prairie, with a handful of Christians, mostly\u003cbr\u003ewomen, gathered together in the freezing, draughty building. In later\u003cbr\u003eyears I worship in the great cathedral church, ablaze with lights,\u003cbr\u003everdant and fragrant with the evergreen pines, echoing with joyful\u003cbr\u003ecarols and celestial harmonies. My recollections are of contrasts like\u003cbr\u003ethose of life--joy and sadness, poverty and ease.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd the pictures are full of faces, many of which may be seen no more by\u003cbr\u003eearthly vision. I miss the clasp of vanished hands, I crave the sound\u003cbr\u003eof voices stilled. As we old and older grow, there is a note of sadness\u003cbr\u003ein our glee. Whether we will or not we must twine the cypress with the\u003cbr\u003eholly. The recollection of each passing year brings deeper regret. How\u003cbr\u003emany have gone from those circles that we recall when we were children?\u003cbr\u003eHow many little feet that pattered upon the stair on Christmas morning\u003cbr\u003enow tread softer paths and walk in broader ways; sisters and brothers\u003cbr\u003ewho used to come back from the far countries to the old home--alas, they\u003cbr\u003ecannot come from the farther country in which they now are, and perhaps,\u003cbr\u003esaddest thought of all, we would not wish them to come again. How many,\u003cbr\u003ewith whom we joined hands around the Christmas tree, have gone?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCircles are broken, families are separated, loved ones are lost, but the\u003cbr\u003eold world sweeps on. Others come to take our places. As we stood at the\u003cbr\u003eknee of some unforgotten mother, so other children stand. As we\u003cbr\u003elistened to the story of the Christ Child from the lips of some grey old\u003cbr\u003efather, so other children listen and we ourselves perchance are fathers\u003cbr\u003eor mothers too. Other groups come to us for the deathless story. Little\u003cbr\u003eheads which recall vanished halcyon days of youth bend around another\u003cbr\u003eyounger mother. Smaller hands than ours write letters to Santa Claus and\u003cbr\u003ehear the story, the sweetest story ever told, of the Baby who came to\u003cbr\u003eMary and through her to all the daughters and sons of women on that\u003cbr\u003ewinter night on the Bethlehem hills.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd we thank God for the children who take us out of the past, out of\u003cbr\u003eourselves, away from recollections that weigh us down; the children that\u003cbr\u003eweave in the woof and warp of life when our own youth has passed, some\u003cbr\u003eof the buoyancy, the joy, the happiness of the present; the children in\u003cbr\u003ewhose opening lives we turn hopefully to the future. We thank God at\u003cbr\u003ethis Christmas season that it pleased Him to send His beloved Son to\u003cbr\u003ecome to us as a little child, like any other child. We thank God that in\u003cbr\u003ethe lesser sense we may see in every child who comes to-day another\u003cbr\u003eincarnation of divinity. We thank God for the portion of His Spirit with\u003cbr\u003ewhich He dowers every child of man, just as we thank Him for pouring it\u003cbr\u003eall upon the Infant in the Manger.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere is no age that has not had its prophet. No country, no people, but\u003cbr\u003ethat has produced its leader. But did any of them ever before come as a\u003cbr\u003elittle child? Did any of them begin to lead while yet in arms? Lodges\u003cbr\u003ethere upon any other baby brow \"the round and top of sovereignty?\" What\u003cbr\u003edistinguished Christ and His Christian followers from all the world?\u003cbr\u003eBehold! no mighty monarch, but \"a little child shall lead them!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou may see through the glass darkly, you may not know or understand\u003cbr\u003ethe blessedness of faith in Him as He would have you know it, but there\u003cbr\u003eis nothing that can dim the light that radiates from that birth in the\u003cbr\u003erude cave back of the inn. Ah, it pierces through the darkness of that\u003cbr\u003eshrouding night. It shines to-day. Still sparkles the Star in the East.\u003cbr\u003eHe is that Star.","brand":"SAP","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47073551155440,"sku":"2940013191358","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013191358_p0.jpg?v=1763578164","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013191358","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}