The Gift of Self

By Helen Steiner Rice
(Adapted from an old German legend)

In holiday mood, Christmas cheer to extend,
Two neighbors called on their old cobbler friend.
They found his shop so humble and mean,
Yet made gay with many boughs of green.

As Conrad was stitching a leather sole
He shared his secret with face aglow.
"Old friends," he said, "at dawn today
When the cock was crowing the night away,

The Lord appeared in a dream to me
And said, "I am coming—your guest to be."
So I’ve busied myself, the wait to endure,
Decorating my shop with branches of fir.

The table is spread and the kettle shined,
And over the rafters the holly is twined.
Now I shall wait for my Lord to appear.
I must listen closely so I will hear

His quiet step as He enters my place,
That at last I may gaze on His kindly face.
So his friends went home, leaving Conrad alone
On this, the happiest day he had known.

For, long since, his family had passed away
Leaving Conrad alone on each Christmas day.
But he knew with the Lord as his special guest,
This Christmas would be the dearest and best.

He waited and listened, joy warming his heart.
With each little sound, Conrad rose with a start
And looked for the Lord to be standing there
In answer to his heart-felt prayer.

To the window he hastened upon hearing a sound,
But all that he saw on the snow-covered ground
Was a shabby old beggar whose shoes were well worn
And the poor man’s clothes were all ragged and torn.

Now Conrad was touched, and opened his door.
He said, "Your feet must be frozen and sore.
I have some new shoes in my shop for you
And a coat that will keep you much warmer, too."

So with grateful heart that man went away.
But as Conrad noticed the time of day
He wondered what made the dear Lord so late
And how long he would have to anxiously wait.

Then he heard a knock and went to the door,
But ‘twas only a lonely stranger once more.
An old woman bent beneath a heavy load
Sought refuge in Conrad’s humble abode.

She asked only for a place to rest,
But rest was only for Conrad’s guest.
The tone of her voice pleaded, "Don’t send me away.
Let me rest for a while this cold Christmas day."

So Conrad heated for her a steaming cup
And invited her at the table to sup.
As soon as she left he was full of dismay
For he saw that the hours were passing away.

The Lord had not come as He promised He would,
And poor Conrad was sure he had misunderstood.
Then a voice cried out in the wind and the frost,
"Please help me, kind Sir, I fear I am lost!"

So again he opened his friendly door
And stood disappointed as was twice before.
It was only a child who had wandered away
And was lost from her family on Christmas day.

Again Conrad’s heart was heavy and sad,
But he knew he must make the little child glad.
So he welcomed her in and wiped her tears,
Then gently quieted all her childish fears.

He helped her find her way home once more,
But as he entered his own darkened door,
He knew that the Lord was not coming today
For the hours of Christmas had passed away.

So he went to his room, and knelt down and prayed,
Asking, "Why, dear Lord, was your visit delayed?
What kept you from coming to call on me?
I wanted so much your kind face to see."

Then in the silence a gentle voice he heard:
"Lift up your head for I kept my word.
Three times I came to your lonely door.
Three times my shadow crossed your floor.

For I was the beggar with the bruised, cold feet.
And the bent old woman you gave to eat.
I was the lonely child you homeward led,
And countless others you’ve clothed and fed.

To those less blessed you’ve shown love and cared
To lift their burden, their worries shared.
My countenance reflects on you now, you see,
By serving others, you’ve also served me."