12 
LAND & WATER 
December 21, igit* 
^ Christmas Story 
By Emilc Camniaerts 
I WAS about the only one left in the village with 
the sacristan, said an old woman somcwlure in 
France, but we had arranged between us to hold a 
Christmas service on Christmas night, just a> if 
nothinji had happened. The priest being busy 
looking after the wounded could not celebrate Mass as 
usual, but we managed to find the painted statues of the 
Virgin and the Child, and St. Joseph, and arranged them 
in the only chapel left whole, on the right hand side of 
the choir. 
It was ia stormy, cold night and I could see. through 
the torn roof, the clouds passing swiftly before the moon. 
There was such a draught that the sacristan had twice 
to relight the candles, which 1 had brought along with me. 
The Boches had been there, so the great siher candle- 
sticks had disappeared. Besides, my candles would 
have been too small for them. So the sacristan stui k 
them in two empty bottles— you always lind plenty 
of empty bottles where the Boches have passed. The 
poor fellow was coughing \ery badly. He had hunted 
everywhere for the three life-sized shepherds, with their 
long crooks and their brown cajies, whom we had seen 
for so long kneeling before the Holy I'amilv, but they had 
gone, and I believe that he thouglit they had gone really 
as he could lind no trace of them : " They have gone to 
the war with the others. There are no" shepherds left 
to keep the flock ! " 
There was no flock to keep, said I, and. at the 
time, 1 thought it was one of his jokes— for, as most sacris- 
tans, he enjoyed his little joke-but, as you will see, it 
was not. 
He was also depressed because Saint Joseph had lost 
a leg in the battle and could only stand propped up against 
a chair. The Holy Virgin did not fare better, and the 
arm with which she »ised to clasp her Child so tenderly 
was broken at the elbow. The Child Jesus Mas mir- 
aculously preserved ; even the two fingers raised to bless 
the worshippers had remained quite whole. Only the 
glass eyes must ha\e been shaken out of the sockets, 
for these were empty now, and I shivered when I saw 
the two small black holes in the smiling tender face. But 
the sacristan was more concerned with the Mother's 
arm and Saint Joseph's leg. You could always replace 
eyes, he said, but a leg and an arm have to be carved 
and painted and it would cost a lot of money. And 
where was the money to come from ? 
Still, we had set our hearts on this midnight service 
and he read it as well as he could and I managed the 
responses somehow. We must have made many mis- 
takes and it is a comfort to think that, as the priest used 
to say : 
" It is the intention, not the performance, which 
counts in the eyes of God." 
The wind howled through the shell-holes and whirled 
around the pillars, but the night seemed to us very calm, 
as the bombardment had ceased for si.\ hours. We 
could Varcely believe it and w^ere expecting at every 
moment to hear again the familiar buzzing and the crash 
of a tnarmite.'^ 
But what happened startled us much more. The 
sacnstan was now kneeUng, turned towards the Virgin, and 
I was just in the middle of my third Ave, when we 
heard steps behind us. I was so surprised that I nearly 
fell off my chair. The outlines of a man could be seeii 
agamst the sky on the threshold. He held the door open 
for two others to enter and t-he three of them walked 
straight to us, or rather straight to the group of the Holy 
I-amily in the chapel. They walked in a row, the middle 
one leaning heavily on the two others, and we saw then 
that they were wounded soldiers. 
One of them had lost a leg, the empty sleeve of the 
second was tucked in his pocket and the third walked 
straight forward with the stiff hesitating step of the blind 
He was apparently guided by the man whom he was 
helping along. 
I was still wondering how they cpuld have come into 
our church (for the village stands close to the firing line 
and the nearest field-hospital is two miles distant) when 
to my amazement, I saw them pass us, without a sign 
of recognition, and kneel before the Virgin exactly in the 
attitude of the lost statues of the Shepherds. The man 
who had lost his leg knelt before St. Joseph, his left 'hand 
resting on the ground, the one-armed one bowed his head 
in a deep salutation, turned towards the Virgin, and the 
blind one kissed the Child's feet, staring at him as if he 
could meet his eyes. They had taken their caps off 
and I felt sure that I had seen their faces before. The 
sacristan was trembling from head to foot ; his mouth was 
working and I thought he was going to address them, 
when I heard the deep voice of the first wounded soldier 
speaking to Saint Joseph : 
"I have given you my leg, Joseph, so that you could 
lead the Mother and thc'Child wherever your Angel tells 
you to go, to Egypt, to France, to England, or anywhere 
you please. I have given you my good strong leg, the 
leg of a young man. so that you could run errands for 
the .Mother, fetch wood and wa'ter for her and provide for 
all her needs. J used to be proud of it, good Joseph, when 
1 danced with my bride at the fair, or when I ran through 
the mountain jumping over brooks and cwgs. I shall 
be prouder when it is yours and wlien I think that, serving 
you, it serves also the Virgin and the Child." 
Then the second one spoke to Our Lady, and his voice 
was so choked with awe that I had to put my hand 
to my ear to understand what he said — for j'ou must 
know that I have grown a little deaf lately : 
" I have given you my arm, Blessed "^lary, so that you 
could clasp your Child against your breast. I have given 
you my good strong arm so that you could gather, under 
your wide bliie mantle, all the poor people who wander 
forlorn in this world, those who hunger for bread, those 
who hunger for Charity, and those wl'io hunger for Justice. 
It is but the coarse arm of a workman, but it used to serve 
me well. It will become, if \m\ deign to take it, the 
arm which shelters and comforts the poor. The hand is but 
a rough, hard, bony hand, but it will become, at the end of 
your arm, the sweet tender hand which gathers the white 
lilies of chastity beside the stream of love." 
Ihen the third one spoke in a clear, pure voice, the 
voice of a boy who might have sung in our church choir 
before the war broke out : 
'■ I have given you my eyes, Jesus, so that you could 
see again with your baby's eyes the world as you have 
made it. For it needs human eyes to look at human things 
and the eyes of Ciod are too bright for us. Thev were good . 
keen eyes ; they saved my life in mist and night, but I 
do not regret them. They will save now the souls of 
many. They used to dwell with pleasure on fields and 
skies and cottages and on the faces of the dear ones who 
are waiting for me at home. They will see them no longer, 
but they will see you now, Jesu. my Lord, better, far 
better than before. I have given you my eyes so that 
you could read in my heart and "in the heart of my 
enemies, so that you could judge between us and blfss 
the arms of those who are lighting for you." 
As soon as the boy had stopped, the three got up with 
one accord, and they went away, just as they had come, 
the one-legged man leaning on the two others, without a 
look towards us. until the door closed behind them and 
we heard the faint noise of their steps dying away in the 
village street. r . o 
The sacristan kept staring towards the door, his mouth 
wide open, his eyes standing out of his head. I do not 
know why, I turned again towards the Holy Family. 
()\ course, you will not believe me, because Christinas "is 
over, but, if you remember this story on Christmas Eve 
next year, you will understand that I took it in as the 
niost natural thing which could happen in this place, at 
this time. If there had been any clock left, it would 
iiaye struck midnight. 
There it is then : I saw Saint Joseph standing on his 
two legs ]ust as he used to stand before the war, and tlie 
Virgin clasping her Babe with her arm, just as She used 
to do before, and when I looked at Jesus he gazed 
straight at me. And, as he did so. I could swear that 
i saw his oyes smile on me. 
