Men come and go. Nations rise and wane. Suns rise and set. The seasons
roll around. The days and weeks and months succeed each other in rapid
succession, and Time, the great Physician, heals our wounds. Once again
'tis Christmas Eve, and in a certain city church the Rector lingers for
a while to see that all is in readiness for the festal morning. Loving
hands have decorated the neat little church. Beautiful it looks, with
its evergreen holly and ivy, and red berries, and white sparkling frost
crystals, and pure white carnations on the altar. All is ready for
to-morrow's services, and with thankful heart the Rector kneels on the
chancel step to thank God for His best gift to the world--The Babe of
Bethlehem--and to beseech that His people may appreciate that Gift and
come in large numbers to the Holy Table. As he is about to leave the
church an old woman comes tottering up the aisle bearing in one hand a
silver "challenge" cup, and in the other a bunch of white flowers. With
trembling voice she beseeches the minister to take and place them upon
the altar. "The cup was Ned's, sir," she said, "he won it for shootin'
at the Boys' Brigade. I bought the flowers myself, your riverence, for
I know he would love it to be filled with flowers on the altar
to-morrow; and I want it placed there as his gift to God this blessed
Christmas Day."
Her request was granted. Ned's gift was "placed there" and all who
heard the story were reminded of the saying, "He being dead, yet
speaketh." In his life he bravely "did his duty in that state of life
unto which it had pleased God to call him"; he gave himself up to bring
joy and sunshine wherever he went; he gave his prayers, his service,
his will to God; for "with all my heart, I come," he said.
And may we not feel this happy Christmastide, when the world is glad
and joyful, when friends are true and the skies are blue and the sun is
shining, when in God's House we thank Him for the Babe of Bethlehem and
unite with the whole Heavenly Host in singing "Glory to God in the
Highest, and on earth peace to men of good-will"; may we not feel that
with all the voices in that mighty throng, one voice we know will also
be lovingly heard by our Father; and that will be the voice of Irish
Ned, the Winnipeg Newsy.