A CHRISTMAS GLIMPSE

Evening Post, Volume CII, Issue 151, 23 December 1921, Page 12

A CHRISTMAS GLIMPSE

To a child, last Christmas is long, lo«ir, long ago. Such vaooury stretches of intervening time becloud his memory of it, he sees it feebly as a cluttering of dUßty toy* and dead candy in some prehistoric dimness. No more than a sawdust-leaking doll remains as doubtful proof that there ever was suoh a thing as a previous Christ-, mac; and, having little regard for the insubstantial, ho finds all old Chnstmajes of no more account than far?away Christmases to come, which are unthinkable. His true thought is that there never was and never will bo any Christmas except this Christmas—yet he says he "WisttW it Were Christmas Every Day!' . As ho grows older he better knows that there aro other Christmases; tbat there was a last-Christmas, and that sometime there will bo even a next-Ohrigtmsii; ana « then, as ho passes out of childhood, th« Christmases come a little faster; he Can keep several of them in sight at once. But when he leaves childhood, and youth, too, behind him~my soul! how time begins to spin round his head! And Christmis, on the rim of the whirling wheel of the years, is like a revolvingVpark of light going faster and faster untnVit eeeme here again before it has cjuiito gone; so that ; we say, "But last Christmas Was only yesterday !" If this bo true, then' ne*t Christmas comes to-morroiv; tho child, grown old, has his wish at last; Mid it is Christmas Every Day. Bright illusion! Tho rest of the year is battle. , Yet through these few..hours of Christ- . mas wo wish to be godlike, so we remember to be human, because a God became human on this day; and while the flying light upon tho wheel gives illumination, we get a glimpse of what we battlo for: to be done with battle and maroh on in a fellowship. When all the year round is truly Christmas Every Dayi w« shall be upon the iwrders of where we are going. —Booth Tarkingtoa, :'n 'IJiEo.