m in my arms," she thought, but was afraid to
ask.

* * * * *

After a few days, the strangers left Bethlehem, all but the three--the
man, whose name was Joseph, and Mary, his wife, and the Baby. Then, as
of old, little Ruth played about the courtyard and the white lamb
frolicked at her side. Often she dropped to her knees to press the
little woolly white head against her breast, while she murmured: "My
little lamb, my very, very own. I love you, lambie," and then together
they would steal over to the entrance of the cave to peep in at the
Baby, and always she thought, "If I only might touch his hand," but
was afraid to ask. One night as she lay in her bed, she thought to
herself: "Oh, I wish I had a beautiful gift for him, such as the wise
men brought, but I have nothing at all to offer and I love him so
much." Just then the light of the star, which was nightly fading, fell
across the foot of the bed and shone full upon the white lamb which
lay asleep at her feet--and then she thought of something. The next
morning she arose with her face shining with joy. She dressed
carefully and with the white lamb held close to her breast, went
slowly and painfully down the stairway and over to the door of the
cave. "I have come," she said, "to worship Him, and I have brought
Him--my white lamb." The mother smiled at the lame child, then she
lifted the Baby from her breast and placed Him in the arms of the
little maid who knelt at her feet.

* * * * *

A few days after, an angel came to the father, Joseph, and told him to
take the Baby and hurry to the land of Egypt, for the wicked King
wanted to do it harm, and so these three--the father, mother and
Baby--went by night to the far country of Egypt. And the star grew
dimmer and dimmer and passed away forever from the skies over
Bethlehem, but little Ruth grew straight and strong and beautiful as
the almond trees in the orchard, and all the people who saw her were
amazed, for Ruth was once a cripple.

"It was the light of the strange star," her mother said, but little
Ruth knew it was the touch of the blessed Christ-Child, who was once
folded against her heart.

[*] Used by permission of the author and the publishers, Henry Altemus
Company.

End of Project Gutenberg's Christmas Stories And Legends, by Various

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