| UNI ii au % YPua FoR Veg Pigeons LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA PRESENTED BY James &. Faris ee a. 5 | Pe oeTHE HOLLY CROSS.BY MARY ALICE SEYMODR. NEW YORK: GENERAL PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL UNION AND CHURCH BOOK SOCIETY, 762 BROADWAY. 1863.We... YW Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year Oo 9 1863, by the GENERAL PrRot- EPISCOPAL SUNDAY SCHOOL AND CHURCH in the Court Book Socrery, the District tes, for the Office of of the United District f ESTANT UNION Clerk’s “ state Oo Southern New York.PUBLISHED THROUGH OF TH F SUNDAY SCHOOL CHILDREN OF St. Heter’s Church, MORRISTOWN, N. J. HOLLY Cc R F088, aeTO HOLLY CROSS. ‘“We buried him where he was wont to pray, By the calm lake, e’en here, at even-tide; We reared this Cross, in token where he lay, For on the Cross, he said, his Lord had died! Now hath he surely reached, o’er mountain wave, That flowery land whose green turf hides no grave.” HEMANS. Ya’ through the moonlight rose the spire to) of St. John in the Wilderness. Leaf- te tee less trees stood around, nearly hiding the little church from view ; but the cross-pointed porch flung its shadow down on the quiet churchyard where cedars and hemlocks sighed in the wintry wind, and snow-flakes drifted from mound to mound. 1THE HOLLY CROSS. And this shadow cross rested upon a grave a long low grave, unmarked by headstone but. not uncared for ; for to-night a cross of bright green holly is lying there. Howcame it there ? Why was it placed there ? As the western sky grew gray, and twilight closed over the Shawangunk Hills, and the moon rose and looked down on the parsonage, a little girl knelt at her mother’s knee, to say her evening prayer. ‘A moment, my little one—mamma must bind this last leaf upon the Holly Cross: papa is waiting to take it to Eben’s grave.” “Can Eben see it, mamma? Why do you put it there? He’s dead.” The leaf was fastened as the mother replied : “Those who loved Eben can see it, my Mary, and one of these days you shall hear why your mamma makes a Holly Cross for poor old Eben’s grave every Christmas Hive.”A CHRISTMAS STORY. t The answer satisfied the child, and with an admiring glance up to the beautiful cross which her papa had taken from the mother’s hand, the little one again knelt down to lisp—“ Our Father who art in heaven.” Long years have glided away since that hap- py night, and although the church still stands in the grove, and the moonlight shadow of a cross still rests upon a long low grave, no Holly Cross lies there, for with the years the father and mother of little Mary passed from earth, and strangers now gather in the quiet parson- age home. The little girl has become a woman—her mother’s journal lies before her, and from its yellow pages she tells you the following story of the Holly Cross. It was Christmas Eve, and the last superflu- ous branches of cedar and laurel had been ecar-8 PoE HOLLY CROSS. ried out from the church of St. John in the Wilderness, the last hemlock spray swept from the hallowed nave, the last foot-fall had passed from the porch, and the gate of the church- yard closed until the dawn of Christmas morn- ing. No human sound came from the moun- tain gorge in which lay a small hamlet, only the wind blowing down from the mountain tops, and the far off dash of a water-fall as it . leaped from the mountain-side, flashing through moonlight into the rock basin beneath, whence it whirled off to a river, rendering, in time, its waters to the mighty Hudson. The clock of the little parsonage adjoining the church, struck twelve, before the Rector’s wife was ready to put by her evening’s work. ‘Come, Annie, it is too late for you to wor- ry over that cross any longer ; finish it in the morning.” ? “Tt is finished now, James,” replied theA CHRISTMAS STORY. young wife, carrying it to the desk by which her husband was sitting. “Oh, it is beautiful! I wish that my work, this Christmas sermon, were as well finished.” “Are not you tired writing, James? Sup- pose we take the lantern, and slip into the church, and place this cross upon the altar ; I am so anxious to see how it will look there.” Her husband smiled. ‘“* Ah, James, I do hope the church will look well to-morrow! You know, all those moun- taineers and charcoal burners we visited last week up in the forest have promised to come, and then they will ask why we dress the church so gaily, and you can tell them the story of our Saviour’s coming to earth for us so many years ago’—she paused——‘“‘I cannot say ex- actly what I mean, but if the church looks beautiful, it will impress what you teach them more strongly on their minds,”Mak BOG OROBS. “My dear little child-wife,” replied the Rec- tor, ‘I hope your wishes for those rough peo- ple will be fulfilled ; they are hard, ignorant men, and ‘4 fear they come more for your prom- ised good cheer, than even the curiosity of see- ing a church. However, you shall place your Holly Cross on the altar.” The lantern was not needed, for the stars shone brightly through the clear glass windows, and the Northern Lights looked down on the chancel from the side lancet, flooding the altar with purple and golden splendor. The Rector entered within the sanctuary: the wife, resting at the rail, gave him the Holly Cross, and he placed it upon the altar. For a moment An- nie’s face was buried in her hands—the Father who seeth in secret heard the prayer which she uttered there. Ah! little thought she then how open the reward for her work of love would be!A OB RELRS TWAS BT 0 By. 1] Locking the church door, they returned to the parsonage. Annie sat down by the fire to wait until her husband finished writing. Slow- ly the moments passed away, but at leneth the sermon was ended, the midnight lamp extin- guished, and soon deep silence reigned through- out the little home, but unseen forms of angel guardians hovered watching there. Christmas morning came, and many feet hur- ried up the hill-side to the porch of the little church, from whose tower the bell was ringing out a Christmas call. And when the last bell- note died away, and the priest entered the chancel, children’s voices greeted him chanting the olden angel song, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good-will toward men.” As the music ceased, the church-door was flung open and a number of men roughly dress- ed, with coarse features and shaggy hair, came12 THE HOEY . CHO SS, tramping up the nave. At last their leader paused and looked around, as if seeking a wel- coming or familiar face. And a fair young face it was which he saw, for Annie Bernard, the Rector’s wife, left her seat near the-chancel and went to meet them. Laying her small hand on the brawny arm of the leader of the gang, she motioned them to follow her. They took their seats, the Rector commenced the service. Obeying the motions of Mrs. Ber- nard, three or four of the men rose and knelt at the proper time, the others amused them- selves by staring about the church ; but again and again their eyes sought the altar to gaze upon that beautiful cross of dark glossy leaves interwoven with berries of scarlet, and many were the inquiring glances which they cast at the girlish figure before them, as if they would ask her the meaning of so much beauty clus- tered there.A CHRISTMAS STORY. 13 They had not long to wait, for, service over, the Rector went into the pulpit, and opened the Bible at St. Luke’s account of our Saviour’s birth. With the ignorance of little children had those poor men entered God’s house, with the eagerness of little children they listened to that grand old story which for eighteen hun- dred years the priests of our holy Mother Church have borne over the world, thrilling the heart of childhood with wonder, like unto that of the Shepherds of Bethlehem—entranc- ing the ear of youth with the glorious melody of the Angels’ song—calling pon manhood to fall in adoration like the wise men of the East and offer gifts beneath the pure bright rays of Bethlehem’s star—moving the lips of old age to syllable Simeon’s prayer, ‘‘ Lord, now lettest Thou thy servant depart in peace **** Woy . thine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people.” 6) eed14 PH HOLLY “oR ofS. But not our Saviour’s birth alone formed the subject of the Rector’s Christmas sermon to hisrude assembly. He told them the heavy tale of the suffering and death of Jesus for our salvation. It is a familiar one to us; but alas, in this beautiful Christian land there are many to whom itis almost as unknown as it was to those poor mountaineers. They listened, ay, they listened with awe and wonder to a story so strange. When their hearts warmed with joy at the song of the angels, they saddened at the thought of a birth- place so mean. If like Mary and Joseph they sorrowedl a ilis loss, they rejoiced when He was found « yain in the midst of the doctors of the Temple. His baptism, fasting and tempt- ation, was a them so new they could not un- derstand it; but Hs life of doing good unto others, without a thought of Himself, and so unlike the common selfishness all around us,A OCHRATSETMAS SPORY. 15 ah! this ever touches a poor man’s heart—it made them love Him more. Ihe story went on, and when it came to the ° night of our Blessed Lord’s betrayal, more than one hardy face bent forward in breathless silence to catch, if possible, the sound of angel legions guarding Christ their Gotl from the danger of Gethsemane. But no, He was led to the cold Judgment Hall—to bitter nockings, cruel scourgings, while ‘‘ Crucify Him, crucify Him !” were the last words the Saviour re- ceived from those for whose salvation He was going to lay down His life. The thorn-crown pressed His weary brow—the heavy burden of the cross a cross !—new light seemed to break upon the minds of the mountaineers, for they glanced at the one resting upon the altar before them, and bent forward more eagerly to hear the priest’s words. Yes, it was a cross with Which the sinless One went forth to Mount16 THER HOLY OR OSS. Calvary—a cross upon which He was nailed—- a cross upon which the sacrifice for the sins of the whole world was offered—a cross whence were uttered the words, “It is finished,” and where the meek head of Jesus of Nazareth bowed, and earthly suffering ceased. A cross of wo and anguish was the heritage of the Child Jesus, and of this we are reminded, even in the joyous season of His birth. The Rector closed the book. A silence like unto death itself pervaded the little church. It lasted but a moment, for there came a sigh so deep and heart-breaking that the congrega- tion involuntarily started forward, and some went up to the kneeling figure of the old lead- er of the mountaineers, whose head had sunk down on his bosom, his tear-stained face cover- ed with his hard, rough hands. ‘Eben! Eben! cheer up man! Don’t take on so hard! Hben! Eben !”A CHRISTMAS STORY. IT? Uttering such words, his companions tried, but unsuccessfully, to rouse him. Annie elided up, and putting them all aside, laid the massy head of the old man upon her arm. It was her little hand that sprinkled cold water on his brow, her voice whispering, “Eben, look up, Eben ;” that seemed to recall life. A few moments more and he could walk to the parsonage, where kind attendance kept him all the merry Christmas Day. Evening came, and the mountain party turned home- ward. Eben, laden with little gifts for his grand-children, seemed merriest of them all. As they passed out of sight, Annie and her husband re-entered the house. “Oh James, how strangely affected poor Eben was—what does it mean ? I did not dare to speak to him about your sermon; but we must try and establish a little church up there in the moun- tains ; we are too far off for those families to be 3818 Tom: Monn yY CROs. regular attendants here. Eben said he could read, so I gave him a Bible and Prayer-book. Indeed we must look after those people, James.” ‘Yes, Annie :” her husband paused, busied with his own thoughts. His wife sat down on the hearth-rug and leaned her head against his knee. She too was thinking. “Your cross looked very beautiful to-day, dear Annie,” continued the Rector, after a few ‘moments. ‘‘ Many asked me to show it to them.” “‘ Holly is a stranger plant here. How I wish we could make it grow in our woods !” Two days passed away. It was the evening of the Festival of St. John the Evangelist, and the church was open for evening prayer, but the attendance, owing to a heavy snow- storm, was small ; four or five laborers and the Rector’s wife formed the entire congregation.A CHRISTY WAS Co Oty: 19 When service was over, two of the men waited to clear the path to the parsonage. As Annie turned to leave the church she noticed that the Holly Cross had fallen, so her husband re- turned to the chancel to raise it. The church door was then locked, and the key hung in its accustomed place under the eaves of the porch. The storm continued all night long, but when morning dawned the winds were still ; clouds were far away, and the blue sky looked down on fields of sparkling crystal. It was the Festival of the Holy Innocents. The bell of St. John in the Wilderness again sent forth its cheering call, and again many feet hurried up to the porch of that hill-side church. An- nie entered and took her seat. As she glanced at the altar, a look of surprise passed over her face, which was heightened as many of the parishioners leaned forward to ask,—‘‘ Where is our pretty cross ?”THE HOLLY: CROSS. The Holly Cross was not there ! The bell was tolling, and Annie went to the door of the vestry-room to see if her husband knew of its removal. By and by service ended, but the slowly dis- persing congregation were arrested by the Rec- tor’s voice. “My brethren,” said he, “last night when I left this church a Holly Cross was upon the altar. It was made and given to adorn this church. Though not costly, it be- longed to this sanctuary—not to you, or to me; neither of us had a right to take it away: but yet it has gone, and it could not go with- out hands. The snow has fallen in the foot- prints of the one who has stolen that little cross, but God’s eye is upon him. My children, this theft, petty as it may seem, is really a sin of sacrilege. I cannot believe that it has been committed by you, but if any of you know ought of our little Christmas cross, by the loveA CHRISTMAS BETORY. Ot which you should bear each other, by the love which I know you bear to her who made that pretty cross, go at once and tell her where it is; let not the bright sunshine of this Holy Innocents’ day shed its beauty upon one bear- ing a guilty conscience.” Six Christmas-tides passed away, and still the mysterious loss of the Holly Cross was whispered abroad. It had never been found, nor any trace of it obtained. Christmas after Christmas the Rector’s wife made a simi- lar cross, but it never again disappeared ; not even up in the charcoal-burner’s district, where a little school-house had been built, and where the Church service was frequently held, did the poor people ever disturb any of the church decorations. Poor Eben had left that district long before the church was established there : the people said he had wandered off on the29, THE HOLLY CROSS. mountains ; he had never been heard from, so they supposed him dead. ihe seventh Christmas Day passed, and the Festival of the Holy Innocents drew near. Late in the afternoon of the Festival of St. John the Evangelist, Annie Bernard sat by the window, looking out through the stormy air, watching for her husband to come home. Lit- tle Mary, tired of play, had crept up to her mother’s lap, and nestled her curly head on her mother’s breast. Heavier and fiercer blew the “wind, until the house shook, and whole snow- banks seemed whirling against the windows, A loud knock was followed by the sougd of voices in the hall. Throwing a shawl around her child, Annie went out to learn the cause. | ‘Only he’s a-dyin’, mar’m, and he longs to get you to come.” It wasa tall rugged moun- taineer who stood before her, but she did not recognize him.bh Oo A. OCHEISBTMAS SPORY., “Who is dying ?” her voice faltered, and her face was deadly pale. “Eben ; he’s comed back—folks say he’ll die, and he don’t want to die without the minister ; but it don’t seem like he’ll get there.” Annie stood still for a moment. “ You say that Eben is now up in the charcoal-burners’ village, and he is dying, and he wishes to see Mr. Bernard ?” ** Yes, I does say so,’ I impatiently Peturned the man, who was leaning against the wall. “I’ve walked these eight miles a-purpose to hurry him, and you too.” “Walked ? Have you no sleigh P” ““No, nor we can’t get a sleigh up the last mile o’ road, nuther ; nor I wouldn’t a’ walked, only th’ immen folks says you’re a purty mar’m, and ’ud give me summat, and let me ride back with the minister.” Giving her child to the servant, Annie24 THE HOLLY: OROS'S. The storm was as fierce opened the hall door. as ever—her husband absent—yet poor Eben was dying, and wished to see her. She closed the door, and ordered the man to go to the nearest tavern for a sleigh. He gave a stupid stare of surprise, but proceeded to do her bidding. band, telling him to follow her, as soon as he Writing a short note to her hus- returned home, was the work of a few mo- ments: then, wrapping herselfin her cloak, and filling a basket with food and wine, she sat down to await the arrival of her messenger. Many were the earnest words with which her servants begged her to desist from so perilous a journey ; but a strong impulse seemed urging her to seek the bed-side of the dying man. ‘Were my husband at home, I would not go; but now, something tells me that I am doing my duty this was her only thought. sleigh came, and kissing her little one, theA CHRISTMAS sgrTory,. 25 wera cece Mee Wart Som iin OM mother went forth in the fast, fading twilight. Bitter cold was the wind as it swept down from the pines. Hardened and sturdy as was the young mountaineer, yet even he felt the biting blasts, and more than once turned to wrap the fur robes more closely around the slight little figure at his side; and when they came within the last mile of the settlement, he begged her to let him carry her to Eben’s hut, ‘Oh no,” she replied, “at least not now; I can walk very well for a while.” But the snow-drifts were deep over the path- way, the rocks slippery and sharp, the night dark and the wind high, so that their progress was very slow. ‘This be too stiff a night for you, ma’rm !” exclaimed the young man, stopping to push aside the branches of a hemlock that stretched across their way: “better let Eben die, and you go back home,” Oo26 rank HOLLY CROBS. “No, no! go on. How much farther ?” Mrs. Bernard leaned against a huge rock. ‘Half mile, good. Say, ma’rm—lI’ve helped haul many a drag of fodder for the folks up yonder—you ain’t nigh so heavy: just let me show you how easy I can lug you up.” So say- ing, he seized hold of Annie, lifting her like a child on one arm, and parting the branches of the trees which hung over their path, he step- ped quickly up the mountain-side. Annie was frightened. Excitement had kept up her courage, but now when she found her- self so helpless, so far from home, alone on the dark mountains, in the arms of a rough stranger whom she had never seen before, the wind cut- ting her tender face, the snow blowing into her eyes, and the loud laugh of the mountaineer as he held her tighter in his grasp and bounded faster along, exclaiming at the lightness of his burden—the thought of duty, which had ap-A GHRELSEMAS SEORY. peared so urgent in the little parsonage, almost dwindled away, and she saw what she fear- ed was the terrible rashness of her proceeding. Still—she remembered in Whose sight she had that morning knelt, with the prayer that His mighty power might defend her in all dangers, and all her doings, being ordered by His govern- ance, might be righteous in His sight. As they drew nearer the settlement at the top of the mountain, the snow disappeared, and the clouds, driven from the sky, left the stars cold and bright to look down on the silent bush-covered clearing. By the time they reached this open space where the school-house and other familiar objects stood, Annie’s cour- age was nearly restored ; but when the moun- taineer pushed open the door of the rude log house which served as the tavern, and set her down in a little room crowded with men, the atmosphere reeking with the smell of whiskeyee 7H te BoC OBS | and tobacco-smoke, a violent trembling seized her, and catching hold of the arm of her some- time companion she leaned upon him for sup- port. “ ‘lake me to Eben—not here, not here.” At the sound of her voice, faint and low as it was, the men drew their pipes from their mouths, and rose with a stupid stare at the intruders. At a sign from her guide, two of the men whose faces were somewhat familiar to Annie, came forward. ‘Where is Eben ? I am told he is dying.” Annie went up and laid her hands on the naked hairy arms of these men—“Oh take me to him, I am all alone—my husband was not at home, so I came with this kind man whom Kben sent to bring us. He’s been very good to me—now you be good too, and take me to see Kben.” A man in the corner cried out, “ You be too choice to go nigh a dead man, stay and takeA CHRISTMAS STORY. 29 this’—he held up an earthen mug of liquor. Annie saw that he had been drinking. ‘No d wimmin’s here,” continued the speaker, “ we sent ‘em away ‘cause Hben’s a dyin’ there,” he pointed to a door near the corner of the room; ‘“fand he’s all alone. Can’t get live folks to stay by them as is nigh dead, when they keeps lookin’ up to a green and red thing like’s on the top of a church chimney, and says an angel made it !” He came forward with the mug—but Annie shrank back, her face was pale, deadly pale in comparison with the coarse charcoal-blackened faces now crowding around her. Her hair, which the winds had disarranged, hung in heavy brown ringlets upon her fur cape, her hood thrown back, her small hands raised, an imploring, pleading look in her eyes ; her atti- tude, and the momentary dead silence per- vading the little room, worked strangely upon Si30 Hn HOLLY CROSS. the superstitious fears of the other moun- taineers. ‘Tain’t a ’oman, nuther,” whispered the drunkard’s voice. “ Whish !—it’s the angel what’s to come to carry off Eben; he said so this mornin’,” quickly added another, and at these words they all fell back and looked wonderingly frightened at the still figure before them. Mrs. Bernard saw her advantage, and gath- ering her cape closely about her, raised one hand and pointing at the man who had spoken so coarsely to her, she gazed upon him for a moment. His glance fell beneath her earnest look, and hanging his head he tried to hide be- hind the others. ‘‘ Stand still !” she exclaimed in a low but firm voice: “you may well fear me—I am not the death-angel for whom you are waiting, but I come attended by angels ; yes, angels are all around me here, but you,sinful man! cannot see them. A CHRISTER A'S STORY. at Beware, lest the death-angel seize you before he enters that door.” So sayin oOo oO) she passed forward, and gaining the door of Eben’s room, went in. Upon a heap of straw sprinkled on the bare ground—tor other floor to the hut there was none—lay the gaunt form of a tall, powerful man, His white hair fell in long locks upon his shoulders, his beard lay like a little snow- drift over his laboring breast, his arms were folded, pressing a dirty coverless book. His choking, struggling breathing showed that life, although not extinct, was ebbing fast away. His eyes were fixed on the wall before him, and his lips were moving as if in prayer. Mrs, Bernard hastened to his side and knelt down to hear his words. He did not heed—perhaps he did not see her ; but over and over again came the petition which was uttered by the dying thief upon the cross—“ Lord Jesus, rememberi Ons ce heir sae i THE HOLLY CROSS. me, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.” “ Hben— Eben !” He ceased at the sound of the gentle voice, and a strange glad look of recognition came into his face. He turned his eyes, and by the faint lantern-light met those of Annie Bernard. “ Glory’—a struggle for breath—“ Glory be to Thee, O Lord. God the Father bless thee, little one—God the Son remember thee—God the Holy Ghost send comfort unto thee in the hour of thy death, for thou hast brought peace to poor tired Eben—yes, yes, peace at the last!” Annie poured out a little wine and held it to his lips, but he turned from it. ‘¢No, no, I’ve had all such care in the far away country where I’ve been; but I came back to see you, little one, and to see him whose blessed words seven years ago” —he ceased ; Annie wet his lips with the wine, and raisedA CHRISTMAS STORY. oo his head very gently on her arm. “It’s the dark valley now—nearer, bring z# nearer.” An- nie followed the direction of his eyes: they were resting upon a cross hanging on the oppo- site wall. She lifted it down and placed it in his with- ered hand. It was a faded cross of Holly leaves. ‘Little cross made me think of the words, when in the far off country”—he murmured as he folded it close to his breast. ‘* Little one” his eyes were raised to Annie now—“ I took it when I went from here. All through that wild stormy night, I kept it near my heart as I journeyed away to the Western land ; but when I sickened, and they thought me dying there, I sent for the Church minister, and when he came and saw the poor little faded cross hanging up before me, he asked where I got it. I told him of the blessed Christmas Day, and34 THE HOLLY CROSS. the story of our Saviour’s life which I then learned, and the beautiful cross which you had made, little one, for the altar, and how I had taken it away that I might ever remember the little church in the wilderness. Oh, I never thought it was wrong; but he told me it was —so I prayed to get well, I prayed God would just bring me back, so I could tell you and ask you to forgive. I got up from my bed out there, and many weary miles I travelled East- ward, home, and now—here—yes, here I am, and I’ve brought my little comfort back again to you. Oh, little one, forgive poor old Eben ! Lay it in my grave, and every Christmas Eve put a cross on my breast, and tell the little children whose feet may trip lightly above me, the story of the old man who stole the Holly Cross. There—it’s dark again, but I’ve lived to tell it to you; little one, don’t leave me— O Lord forsake me not; remember me! re-& CHRISTMAS STOR?E. 35 member me when Thou comest”—his eyes were suddenly filled with unearthly brightness, a look of agony flashed over his face, the mus- cles twitched for a moment, and then the light faded from his eyes, a film rose up to cover them, but an expression so saint-like, so holy, settled on the calm features, it seemed as if he too was already listening to the Saviour’s voice repeating the words “To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise.” Annie wiped away the death-damp from his forehead, and thinking that life had ebbed away, closed the heavy eye-lids : but another breath came, aS a voice began the commenda- tory prayer: the Rector, unperceived, had en- tered the room. Thus, at the death-bed of Eben, the Lost Holly Cross was found.