MY WOODLAND INTIMATES 



happy children around gift-laden trees; of joyous 

 reunions in holly-decked homes, and of blessed 

 sanctuaries where evergreen garland and wreath 

 and text proclaim the coming of the " peaceful 

 Prince of earth and heaven." 



In this quiet hour the earnest of a time when 

 all discord shall cease, and universal peace and 

 harmony reign a quaint legend comes to my 

 mind. A story of the long, long ago, when the 

 gates of heaven stood open and the golden light 

 streamed down upon the earth, and mortals could 

 look up at the saints in their abode of bliss, and 

 greetings came from heaven to earth and rose 

 from earth to heaven. Sometimes strains of the 

 most marvellous music were heard. Before these 

 sounds the wind held its breath and the rivers 

 stood still, and the children of earth silently 

 pressed each other's hands as they listened; for, 

 though their hearts overflowed with holy joy, it 

 was not in mortal speech to tell what they felt, 

 for God Himself had written the music and the 

 angel choir sang it. 



So it was in the golden long ago; but, when 



discord came to earth, the gates of heaven were 



closed, and mortals could no longer greet the holy 



ones or gaze up into the abode of bliss. And as 



[88] 



