“Christmas ain’t nothin’ ’out snow!”
Sander was a trifle too scornful in his tone. Now do not misunderstand him. For Sander, you see, was a lad eight years of age. And this was the first time he had seen bare earth so late in the winter. At least he thought so. But you will admit that his experience was limited. Besides, today was his birthday, and Christmas Eve too. Very poor birthday it promised to be, for Mama and Papa were just getting ready to drive off on a long journey to town.
For you must not imagine that this little man lives in some fine large house on the avenue or in some tall flat building in the city! Early last spring he had slipped off the train at a most forlorn little station far up in the frontier. As his eyes looked out that morning over the bare prairie, broken only by the rolling hills, with a struggling tree to be seenhere and there, he jumped and frisked. The sun was just coming up, and the light glistened on the dewy grass. What little boy would not have enjoyed the long ride “over hills, over dale,” until they reached the clump of trees on a level spot by the river; Antelope it was called. This name the Indians had very probably given it long ago. Probably, too, they had encamped on this very spot; for who knows when the bubbling spring just below the hollow had begun to flow, and to draw to its freshness both man and beast. There was charm in the very word Indian, to say the least.
And now the summer was gone. At first they had lived in a tent. When Sander awoke in the morning, if it were quiet enough, he could hear the little birds hopping on the canvas roof. For a while there was hammering and building. Then the sod was cut from a grassy place down by the river, and what with the earth-wall without and the white-wash within they had a cozy dwelling. The vegetables and such crops as they had raised were gathered. The horses and the two cows were stabled. The days passed merrily and busily. There were many new things to see and learn and try. And already winter was here, ChristmasEve, really. And Papa and Mama were just climbing into the wagon for the long drive to Somerset, the railway station with its store or two, some twenty miles away. Mama cast back an anxious look, for it was risky to leave a lad eight years old for all day alone in such a place. But a birthday cake stood ready on the shelf. And the little fellow whistled manfully at the confidence being shown in him. Indeed, he was not afraid. He would feed and water old Molly, the cow.
About four o’clock in the afternoon Sander looked up from the slate on which he had been making pictures. It was very dark. Stepping to the door he looked out. Why, Mama and Papa must be on the way home! Cloudy? Yes, cloudy and beginning to blow. Snow flakes! Jolly! Snow for Christmas! He shouted for very glee and danced on the doorstep. But a great gust almost tumbled him back into the room. Hurriedly he closed the door. Then he went out to the stable, but soon returned. As he lit the lamp, even little Sander, for all his birthday, realized that a storm was on, and wondered how Mama and Papa would get along. And well might he wonder, for the wind was beginning to roar in the trees and rattle the door. The snow was thick, and itbecame very suddenly dark. A frontier storm of snow and wind, a blizzard such as Sander had never seen, such as the oldest had very seldom seen, was come, and even a little boy could not help a feeling of dread. Now he listened at the door, now he looked out at the window, now he stirred the fire and shivered. And the moments began to get very long. You would hardly know in the lad who wipes away the tear over by the bed the lad who whistled so manfully in the bright morning.
Some two or three hours later Sander slipped down from the chair on which he had been perched for some minutes. What was that? A noise? Somebody at the window? Joyfully he ran to the door. The gust that swept it open blew out the lamp. Somebody came stamping in.
“Well, not your papa I guess. Got a match, boy?” said a snowy figure in a muffled voice.
They had shut the door. By the stove gleam Sander saw two men. After some fumbling one of them found a match and struck it. In the light two strangers were seen busily brushing off the snow. One, big and burly, was rubbing the ice off his whiskers and blinking under icy and shaggy eyebrows. In a short timethe big man and the youth stood warming themselves.
“Just in time, boy,” said he of the beard, “just in time. God is good. We were lost for sure. God only knows what would have happened if we hadn’t stumbled on this house. My boy, are you all alone here?”
Sander explained. He was still wondering at the men. In fact, he stood by the bed a little scared at the strange folks tumbling this way out of the night.
“Your parents coming from Somerset tonight?” At the tone of the big man’s voice Sander looked up. What was the matter?
Not much later the men were about to sit down by the table and eat of the lunch found in their packs. The tea kettle had been singing cheerfully and the fire was humming. There was need both of food and heat. Sander was shivering. He wondered at the men, for they bent low over their plates and said something about “thanks and praise.” The tea had just been poured when there was a thump at the door followed by several more. Sander jumped from his chair, exclaiming. “Mama! Papa!”
While the young man shielded the lamp Bigbeard opened the door. An exhaustedwoman fell forward into the room, dragging two children with her.
“Rescue party right here,” cried Bigbeard, as he banged the door. Soon they were busy unwrapping the wanderers and setting them by the fire. It was not Sander’s parents, but a schoolma’m and two of her pupils. The smallest boy had his feet partly frozen, and the girl a hand and a foot. When they looked up after the snow bathing, rubbing, and warming, and putting to bed it was almost midnight. The schoolma’m could speak now. They had wandered for a long distance.
“Alas, if I had only closed school earlier!” She sobbed at the thought. “Where are the other children! But who would have thought? It was so warm and bright and clear, and then just after four o’clock such a storm!”
“We cannot be too thankful for our escape,” said Bigbeard. “The Lord has saved us from the storm. Perhaps now we had better eat a bit. But, boy, how about your mama and papa?”
“Oh, they’re safe enough, I hope.”
Sander did not propose to fall short in hospitality. He now brought something from the cupboard. “My birthday cake,” he explained.
“What! On Christmas Eve, too?” exclaimed the young man.
“And how old are you, Sander?” asked the schoolma’m. For teachers always want to know about such matters.
But let us make a long story short. And it was a very long story to Sander. All that night the wind roared and howled. Snow seemed to get in everywhere. The stove glowed with heat, yet all were shivering. Every time Bigbeard put in a fresh chunk of coal he said a word of thanksgiving.
“Good coal never was a bigger blessing than this night. God care for the man who brought it here,” was his ejaculation. And then he would sit down once more. And when he saw that Sander, the little host, was at last getting sleepy, too tired to keep awake any longer, he pulled a Testament out of his pocket. They all sat about the table, this odd circle of strangers who had never before met nor even seen each other, and, as beasts that flee for safety to some cave or swamp are friendly in their common danger tho ever so hostile otherwise, were together, drawn into fellowship by singular bonds of charity in this sod hut amid the storm. The young man Bigbeard called John, and the teacher’s namewas Miss Stone. Sander, wide-eyed with fear and wonder, was still sleepily waiting for his parents. The other children were in bed and asleep.
Bigbeard opened his Testament and all bowed their heads devoutly as he read from the holy pages the lesson so appropriate for the hour:
“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not; for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. And it came to pass as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us go even unto Bethlehem and see this thing whichis come to pass, which the Lord had made known to us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.”
When he had read these words Bigbeard closed the book, laid it on the table, and said, “Let us pray.” And all bent reverently as he spoke:
“O Lord God, Heavenly Father, Thou great Shepherd of the sheep, Thou who never failest Thy people in their need, we thank Thee that on this night Thou didst send Jesus Thy Son to earth, that He might live and die to be our Savior and Helper forever. And we pray Thee that Thou, who dost temper the winds to the shorn lamb, wilt this night care for the lost and wandering who are in the storm. We thank Thee for this present safety. Graciously keep Sander’s father and mother from all harm. Keep us now and forever from any storm of evil and temptation, and, because we are the weak children of sin and death, bring us at last into the sweet safety, warmth, and joy of heaven, out of this world of cold and sorrow. As the shepherds went with gladness to the manger on the first Christmas Eve, lead our hearts with joy to Jesus this night. We ask all blessings in Hisname. Amen.” And we might add that Sander slept very sweetly that night for all his trouble.
Bang! Bang!!
It seems that even Bigbeard had nodded, as he sat by the fire, tending it from time to time. Certainly at the noise Sander opened his eyes out of a dream, sat up and rubbed them, to become aware of bright daylight. The noise at the door had awakened all. And they were on their feet stirring when the lad crept out of bed. Another thump or two, and thru the open door in came Sander’s mama and papa all frost—with the morning cold. Imagine their surprise and joy to find their little boy safe, and their sod hut a rescue home amid the broad prairie. The sun now beamed as tho he never had set with an angry frown, and all nature was still with the serene calm which comes after the terrific storm. The cold was nipping but the day was cheery. And as Sander’s mama bustled about for breakfast, all told their several stories. The night had been an awful one, and the papers were later to bring the sad tale of how more than a hundred school children had perished in the cold.
And when they had all eaten a good breakfast,and Papa and Mama had told how they had put up at a house on the way to save being lost, trusting to a higher help for the keeping of their little Sander, Bigbeard again read a lesson and prayed, and there were tears, not of fear but of thanksgiving. For Bigbeard was not only a good man with whiskers, black and long, but was a missionary, who had gone forth to seek the dwellers on the distant frontier and bring them the Gospel. Truly he could say with St. Paul “in perils oft.” We ought probably to give him something better than a nickname.
You may be sure that the lesson of his coming did not soon leave that household, nor did the memory of it leave the heart of the little boy in the sod hut in the distant valley of the Antelope. And who can tell to what higher and better things Sander came when he grew up, because of the night in the storm. There was indeed Christmas blessing for him, besides the present that his parents brought back from the town in the wagon.