LITTLE CHRISTMAS SAINT

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 303, 23 December 1939, Page 2 (Supplement)

LITTLE CHRISTMAS SAINT

Tho orange groves gleamed green under tin? sun's hot rays. Tho fields wcri! green, <i!so, but their wn« paler, and liere and there were ring* of burnt grass wh-re the summer fires had pa>sed. Tho hills sloped up to a pinnacle of rock, and on the rock tho little Christmas Saint stood and gazed up at the blue n.f the Italian sky. Her gown was as white as the Mwdonna lilieu, vrhieli bloomed round her shrine, and her |>alt 3 hands held <a sheaf of the waxen trumpets. Prize Story By Lily Trowern Theresa toiled up the hill, hor feet feeling the dry stubble of the burnt grass. She flung hers-elf down at the little Saint's feet and watehed a fluffy cotton-wool cloud float across the blue well of the sky. Somewhere a gay voice began to sing. Antonio Imd finished his work in the orange groves and was coming to make his Christmas offering to the, Saint, and as he climbed the hillslope he sang a gay provincial song that had a. thread of sadness running throngli its light words.

"Good morning, Theresa," he s<ai<l, as he reached her side. "Have you brought your gift for the Christmas Saint?" "No," said Theresa, "I have no inon«y witih which to buy a gift. Papa used all our money to buy an acre of olives, and the olive crop has failed, and the count has no longer any need for his •ervices." "But," said Antonio, "if you do not give the Saint a gift you cannot ask for any in return." "I know," replied Theresa, and she began to cry a little. "I wanted to ask the Saint to make the ccuut engage papa." Antonio was silent with dismay. At last he said, "Perhaps Signor Garello will give you some oranges to give to the Saint; only you must hurry, Theresa, for to-day is the last day you can make your gift." "Do you think he would?" Theresa eried, hardly daring to hope. "I do not know," Antonio said slowly. "People say that he is a miser and would not give anything away. But we can try," he added, as Theresa's eyee filled with tears. "Wait until I have given my gift and we will go to th® Signor Garello together." Antonio laid a basket of wild plums at the Saint's feet, and as he laid it down he asked, "Oh, Christmas Saint, if it be your will, let Signor Garello give Theresa a basket of oranges." "Antonio," cried Theresa, "you have given away your wish. Now you will not be able to ask anythiug for yourself." "It doesn't matter," Antonio said hurriedly. "Come Theresa, or we won't be able to see the Signor," and taking Theresa's hand he ran her down the hillside to the village.

Signor (iarello sat outside his shop ■iiul smoked his ipipe. Tlio village street was deserted, for everyone was having the noon-day sicetu. Very (joou lie nodded. and Jell asleep. Antonio's voice awakened him. '"Jf you please," it said. Signor (iarello rose i|iiirkly. "W'eil, what is it - ;' ho asked grullly. Jfe hadn't ever liked boys and hero was one startling him ont of a well-earned sleep. Theresa Tino too. Wihy wasn't she homo making ready her father's meal? I "Well, what js it ';" he asked again. Antonio was suddenly afraid, but he stepped up on the platform around t4»o shop and "the old man watched him steadily. '"It's Theresa," lie said. "Her father invested all his money in an acre of olives and the olive erop failed, and the count no longer need* his services, and so Theresa hasn't any money to buy a jjift for the Saint." "Well?'' said the Signor. Antonio wavered. l>\it the si<rht of There<a'is pleading face spurred him on. "Could—could you let her have some oranges?" lie aeked. Signor (JareUo was silent. Antonio was dismayed and Theresa turned awav in distress. For a long moment nothing was heard except the splashing of the fountain, and then—''Yes," said Signor Garello, and he handed out a basket of oranges. "Hun quickly now, I see a customer coming," and he hurried into his shop, not waiting for their thanks. Just as the sun sank below the hills. Theresa lay the oranges at tihe Saint's feet. "Ploaee Little Christmas Saint," she whispered, "please may the count tako papa back again?" Acting on an impulse she gathered an armful of tlio fragrant madonna lilies and placed them on the oranges. Above hor head the little Christmas Saint seemed to smile. Slowly Antonio and Theresa went down the hill apain. When night spread its scent-laden wings over the village, Signor Tino sat down on the hearth and drew at his pipe. Suddenly there came a knock at the street door. It was a messenger from the count. To Theresa, who opened the door, lie gave a sealed letter. Signor Tino spread the letter on the

table. It said ill at flhe count's trees had borno an unusually large crop, and would the Signor Tino be so kind as to como back and (help -with the picking. "It is all because of the Christinas Saint," cried Theresa. And up oil the mountain, silver white in the moonlight, with the fragraneebrea.thing earth around her, and the crystal stars above, the Little Christmas Saint stood, her wise, calm smile ■blessing ths sleeping valley.

boaste to Wendy that lie ]Vn't half a« careless as lie used to >l>o. Hut . It wa* one morning in Christmas week, and everybody was very busy wrapping np prizes to pend out in time for (hrietmas. There was Tink with a neat, pile of labels, and in the corner a niKtMng sound l>cneatli all the brown paper showed that Tootles was busy, too, though goodness knows wliat she was doing, and Wendy was snipping bits of string and wishing that she was getting a 'beautiful box of paints, or a story book or even some stationery with Mickey Mouse on it.