The Vision

Waikato Independent, Volume XLV, Issue 6332, 23 December 1949, Page 5

The Vision

A Seasonal Message.

(By A. R. Mitchell)

(Specially written for “Independent”)

The poliutukawas, slashed with vivid crimson, tlirew a welcome shade from

the hot., afternoon sun. The old chap relaxed in his chair, the book slipped from his fingers, and his gaze shifted from the lawn to the beautiful flowers above him. As well as tli© crimson blooms, there were great starry clusters of small white roses that dropped, listlessly, as if they acknowledegd the; glorious splendour of the pohutukawas to which they clung. ~i “Christmas will soon be here”, ne murmured, as if he had noticed the blooms for the first time. He closed his eyes.; and into a hazy mind stole thoughts of the 'first Christmas; then the thoughts crystallized, and came to life.

The sky above him was dark blue velvet; velvet ablaze with myriads of stars. In the embrace of a great Peace., the world seemed to hold its breath. The thousands of crickets, shrilling clearly from the damp interstices of the stonewalled well, muted their glamour' in reverence to this Great Spirit of Peace.

The stars in the heavens grew dim before a bright light that rose In the East. The old chap trembled In awe as a great star rose slowly into the sky. Steadily it climbed, until it reached a 'point above the huddle of buildings beside the well. Here it hung poised, symbolic of the great Peace that bad become mainfest on earth. Close to the watcher, a group of shepherds materialised out of the desert behind him.. They moved towards the fitful, yellow gleam that comes from the open door of the stables before him. The radiance from the great star above, illustrated tlieir dark, beareci faces, and showed the shaggy garments they wore, as they went reverently forward and disappeared into the stables. ,A protesting grunt informed the watcher that other travellers were abroad. »Turning, he saw camels towering against the star-dusted heavens; great beasts carrying swaying, bearded riders. Halting near the stables, these beasts knelt without the usual grumbling complaints, and the riders hurried inside.

The watcher in the outer darkness stirred restlessly. To whom were travellers hurrying to pay their homage? He crept towards the stables, then he, too, entered the dimly lit structure of sun-baked brickes.

There, in the lowly plaoe, the yellow light from* the flickering lantern revealed the visitors and the presents they had brought. Shining with hope and joy, their eyes were all turned in the same direction, and the old chap sidled past them. Wlxat had brought' these men here, he wondered. , Then lie saw- the woman, Mary. She radiated the Peace lie had been conscious of.; while he stood under the radiant star out-side; but, added to this Peace, was great love arid pride, as she gazed with rapt attentioij at the manger in the‘ centre of the sail. / The watcher followed the direction of her i^azc —and he was astounded.

Lying in the manger, wrapped in his swaddling clothes, was a Child. Scarcely daring to breathe, the old chap beheld this Child, and he' grew afraid. With great, dark eyes that held all the knowledge of the Universe, the Child searched the faces of those who stood around Him. His eyes reached the face of the latest visitor, and immediately,, his fears left him and he understood. Slowly, he felt liis body disintegrate—he was nothing—yet he was everything. This 'little Child smiled, and tlie Great Peace permeated the old chap’s being—he knew that he would never be the same again. Quietly he stole into the night, taking with him the Peace that passes all understanding. He looked up at the ■ great star, still shining on fchpsa lowly -stables. The camels chewed their cuds in peace, the crickets still chirped, but their shrill whistles expressed the voice of God. The sun, still blazed on the crimsonslashed pohutukaWas. The old chap stirred, then opened eyes that were still awed by the vision he had seen. Did Christ still live? His eyes wandered across the dawn to the street beyond. On the other side of it the old stone church towered amongst the trees. A smile, making fun of the lines it stole across, transformed the old face. ‘ Yes’. he whispered to himself; “Christ still lives”. . .