Johnstown High School - Spectator Yearbook (Johnstown, PA)

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SPECTATOR 23 Christmas Reveries M. E. C. ’15 “It came upon a midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth. To touch their harps of gold.” The sweet notes from children’s voices floated into the room. The dancing candle lights from the Christmas tree and the waving banner of flame from the log fire sent shad- ows scampering about. The light and shadows played hide and seek over the people sitting in the room, now hiding in the soft folds of a gray gown, now lighting the copper waves of a curly head resting on mother’s arm, now shining on the glistening balls of the Christmas tree. The tune which the children sang in an adjoining room was an old Christmas carol which brought to the listeners many reminscences. The grandmother’s eyes twinkled as brightly as the candle lights when she thought of her first Christmas recitation. The old school house was elaborately decorated for the Christmas celebration. Long strings of red and green tis- sue paper hung from the rafters; evergreen boughs and holly transformed the dingy walls into young forests. The bench- es were scrubbed, the wash-basin scoured. The teacher had been so carried away by the Christmas spirit that he had locked his rattan up for the occasion. She remembered the new red dress trimmed with plaid, which she wore, and the smile which her mother sent back to her from where she sat among the visitors. She was the last on the program, and recited “How doth the Little Busy Bee” without a mistake. Then the whole school sang, “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” She remembered it all, the bright eyes and merry smiles, and the supreme hap- piness on that day. How queer it would seem to her grand- children !

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22 SPECTATOR Mrs. Ware opened the door into the playroom, where stood a beautifully trimmed tree. The candles were burn- ing brightly, and they gave forth such a glow of light, that Bobby’s eyes were somewhat dazzled at the sight. At the very top of the tree was a little white candle which burned very, very low. “Is that—the candle—of life?” asked Bobby. A white star was below the candle, and Bobby whispered to Nathalie: “And is that—the star—of—Bethlehem?” Surprised and excited, Nathalie could only whisper, “Yes, yes!” Mrs. Ware then carried to him his toys, but well she knew that he wolud never play with them. Suddenly, Bobby pushed away the toys, and closed his eyes. His face was very white, and his breath came short. Mrs. Ware turned pale and clasping Bobby’s hand, she whispered in a tense excited whisper, “Bobby! Bobby!” Bobby raised his big blue eyes and looked wearily up at her. “I’m—so—tired,” he breathed. The little candle flickered, fought desperately for a moment—then went out. Nathalie sank to her knees with a sob, and buried her face in the covers. Bobby’s life had gone out with the Christmas Candle of Life!

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24 SPECTATOR A glowing log turned over, sending a gleam of light to invade the darkness, in which a young husband and wife sat, silently adoring each other. At the first note from the choristers, the husband touched his wife’s hand. She smiled back at him her remembrance of the romance connected with this song. A year ago, on Christmas morning, she had sung this tune as a solo in church. He was there to hear her. Not only the sweetness of her voice, but the pure whiteness of her dress, and the reverent expression on her face, transformed into an angel for him, the young woman whom he admired. He was sure now he loved as well as admired her, and he decided to tell her so. That evening he spoke of his love, and how the song had revealed it to him. She made him happy by saying that she was think- ing of him when she sang; trying to win his approval. They were sitting on the same sofa which they now sat on, watch- ing the rosy fire-glow spread over the dark blue hangings and cushions, when the church chimes rang out through the night air, “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.” The light left them to the shadows again and skipped over to her mother’s chair. The smile on her face broad- ened as she recalled a mad-cap adventure of her youth. It was Christmas eve. She sat before the fire, admir- ing her feet which were encased in a pair of French-heeled, velvet dancing pumps, ornamented with flowers. The young lady next door had received the slippers that afternoon as a Christmas present. Her feet were small and dainty but not as small and dainty as the slippers and so she called over, “Louise, your feet are larger than mine; will you stretch my new slippers for me?” So Louise was admiring her feet, for the pleasure of the borrowed slippers would last only a few hours longer. Soon she heard singing out on the street; it came near- er, “Peace on the earth, good will to men From heaven’s all gracious King.” It was the group of Christmas carolers. They stopped outside and called to Louise to joint them. “I’ll be there in a minute,” called Louise. She pulled on