A Christmas Parable

ONCE there was a King who always had his own way. He had always about him people who looked up to him, and so he had formed the bad habit of looking down on them. He had a great contempt for common people and common things.

On Christmas Eve the people young and old wanted to come to the palace and sing a song of peace on earth, good will to men. But they were very common people who made their living by digging in the earth and caring for the things that grew out of it.

‘The song is all right,’ said the King, ‘but I don’t care to hear these people sing it. They are not my kind, and there are too many of them anyway. But I should dearly like to hear the angels sing up there in the sky. I have a taste for things spiritual. I should dearly love to see the harps of gold.’

So on Christmas Eve he forbade the people to come near the palace. The crier made proclamation that the King must not be disturbed. He and the young prince would sit up on the holy night to hear the angels sing.

For the King was very religious, and, as he was used to being obeyed, he had no doubt that the angels would sing for him when they learned that this was his royal pleasure. He was anxious that his young son should be with him to enjoy the miracle.

They waited for the midnight, but no angels came.

‘That is strange,’ said the King, who was accustomed to promptitude. He went to the window and saw a star.

‘Who are you?’ asked the King.

‘I am the star which guided the Wise Men to the place where the Young Child lay.’

‘Is that all?’ said the King. ‘Stars are common. I have seen thousands of them and have not enough interest in them to ask their names. There are so many of them. They are like the dust which rises from my chariot wheels. One can see a star on any night.’

So the star faded away and the King saw it no more. But the young prince went out and stood under the sky full of stars. There were thousands of them, and each one was wonderful. And to think that they had been shining there before he was born!

When he came back his eyes were glowing. ‘Father, you should go out and look at the stars. How they shine! ’

‘I have seen them before,’ said the King.

As they looked out from the palace they saw the shadowy forms of three ungainly beasts. Their steps were noiseless and they moved slowly as if they had come from a great distance. And one of them was lame.

‘ Who are you?’ said the King gruffly.

‘We are the three camels on which the Wise Men rode when they followed the star to the place where the Young Child lay. We have crossed wide deserts and we are hungry and thirsty and tired.’

‘What is that to me?’ said the King. ‘My son and I are waiting to hear the angels sing — we have never seen an angel or heard one. But we can see camels any day. Begone to your deserts, you ugly brutes.’

But the young prince slipped out into the dark and gave the camels food and drink. ‘Angels,’ he said, ‘can take care of themselves, but camels must be fed.’

Then in the darkness appeared other creatures’ moving forms.

‘Who are you,’ said the King, ‘that you come to disturb my royal meditation?’

‘We are the oxen who stood by the manger in which the Christ Child was laid.’ And other voices added, ‘We are the sheep that were in the fields of Bethlehem.’

‘Camels and oxen and sheep!’ said the King. ’Why should I be troubled with these earthly things on the one night when I want to feel religious?’

Then there came from the shadow of the trees in the King’s park three poor men in rough clothing, leaning heavily on their staves.

‘Who are you?’ asked the King.

‘We are poor shepherds of Bethlehem who watched over our sheep on the night when we heard a multitude of the heavenly host singing, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. " ’

‘You heard it? A multitude of the heavenly host singing to such as you? You come to mock me.’ And he drove them away.

His young son said not a word, but stole softly after them. For he wanted to talk with the friendly shepherds and hear their tale.

Still the angels delayed.

At last a young boy came unannounced.

‘Who are you?’ growled the King.

‘I am the Christ Child.’

‘I did not recognize you,’ said the King. ‘I thought you would be different. You look so much like the children I have known.’

‘Did you know them?’ said the Christ Child. ‘If you had really known them, you would have known Me.’