After our nocturnal devotions, we novices returned to the novitiate, where the Yule log was blazing. By way of a rarity, we all had coffee to refresh us after our vigil, and we sat around the fire chatting in a home-like manner, and repeating Christmas carols.
"He neither shall be born In housen nor in hall, Nor in the place of Paradise, But in an ox's stall; He neither shall be rocked In silver nor in gold, But in a wooden cradle That rocks upon the mould."
In the country, on Christmas eve, the young peasants go about from house to house, singing Christmas carols, expecting some treat in return.
I saw to-day a little picture of the Child Jesus making crosses in the work-shop of his foster-father. Perhaps it was one of these that the poets tell us the little St. John contended for:
"Give me the cross, I pray you, dearest Jesus! Oh! if you knew how much I wish to have it, You would not hold it in your hand so tightly. Something has told me, something in my breast here, Which I am sure is true, that if you keep it, If you will let no other take it from you, Terrible things I cannot bear to think of Must fall upon you. Show me that you love me; Am I not here to be your little servant, Follow your steps and wait upon your wishes?"
At four o'clock in the morning we returned to the choir. I stationed myself before the manger to make my meditation on the mystery of the day. Of course Christmas is not very merry after such a vigil, but who can tell the holy joy of such a night--worth all the gayeties of the world!
I read in the refectory for the first time to-day. When I returned to the novitiate after my dinner the good mother said, "You have read so well, you merit a recompense." I glanced at the mantel and saw the American stamps with the benign faces of Washington and Franklin, so welcome in this far-off land....
I hope you will never speak of burdening me with an account of your infirmities, whether bodily or spiritual. I love that loving command of the apostle, to bear one another's burdens; for we are never more Christ-like than when we forget our own trials to bind up the wounds of a fellow-sufferer. Be assured I pray for you without ceasing. I never enter the presence of the Blessed Sacrament without invoking a blessing on you and on my dear country. I never communicate or perform an act of penance without desiring that you may participate in the grace I receive. Oh! that by my fidelity to God I might draw down the blessings I daily implore for you and for all who are dear to me! O my God! spare me not. Let _me_ suffer mental and bodily trials, let _me_ be the victim of thy justice; but spare my loved ones! If I cannot labor _directly_ for thee, I can at least suffer for thee, for them, and for the whole world. Thy victim, O God! thy victim. The name befits me better than that of thy spouse.