Garfield Junior High School - Gleaner Yearbook (Berkeley, CA)

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THE CHRISTMAS PARCHMENT By the time they had reached the top of the hill Carl and Christine were breathing very hard. They wanted to halt and rest, but knew that if they did, less time would remain to be spent in the monastery. Carl, a young peasant boy of medieval times, always enjoyed a visit to the monastery, especially at Christmas time, when the father told him many tales and sometimes even allowed him to gaze reverently at the Christmas parchment. It had beautiful old illuminated script, telling of the birth, life, and death of Jesus Christ. Carl and Christine stayed at the monastery until the shadows grew long, then had to hasten down the snowy hill to their hut. When the two children entered, their mother was busy preparing dinner. And mother,” announced Carl, the father says that we may go up to the Christmas Eve celebration at the castle tomorrow night. After the feast the nobles and ladies will dance and sing, and at twelve o’clock they will have midnight mass. Then every one will bring up his offering to the Christ Child. I’m going to give my ha’pennies that I have saved so long.” Oh, and Carl, over the altar the Christmas parchment will hang!” added Christine. On his way to the village the next afternoon Carl met Hansel, who whispered with great secrery, Come, Carl, I will show you something fine that I have found,” and there, buried beneath some rags was the precious Christmas parchment! Carl tried to think calmly, but he knew how important it was to have the parchment in the Christmas celebration. He must obtain it somehow! So he offered all his ha’pennies to Hansel for the parchment. At first Hansel was loath to give it up, but finally as the sun sank in the west he handed him the parchment and greedily took the pen- nies in return. When Carl had arrived home after leaving the parchment at the castle, he realized sadly that now he had nothing to lay on the altar. So that night all Carl had was a kiss for the infant Jesus that lay in the wooden creche. Jean Grant, High Eight. C-+-9 Christmas in the Country As gentle as a mother’s hand, The snow flakes touch the ground, T hey cover every part of land, Each hill, each peak, each mound. A tiny group of big fir trees, Are all d ressed up in snow, T hey seem to whisper to the breeze, In voices soft and low. From north to south and east to west, All carpeted in white, T he country side is at its best, Upon this Christmas Night. Doris Sandner, High Nine.

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FRUITS FOR THE KING Excitement stirred around the castle. Once again Christmas had come to medieval England. Among the long anticipated pleasures of the holiday were the magicians and merry makers who came with perfumes and spices from Asia. Indeed, the very fruits, without which the banquet could not go on, were to arrive from the Far East any minute. They were late as it was — two weeks, but maybe storms had been en- countered crossing the mountains. No one dared to breathe a word of the fear that was in everyone’s heart, that they would be late, or would not come at all. For it was a hard, dangerous trip and enemies from other lands might capture them any minute. But then, they assured each other, the men were strong and could defend themselves. Meanwhile soft footsteps were heard around the towers as mysterious packages were hidden. Pigs were being fattened, wild boars trapped, and around the kitchen suggestions of all good things to eat filled the air. The wood smen were out finding just the right Yule log. Evergreens and berries decorated the rooms, and whole trees were clustered in the banquet hall. All was ready but the fruits and spices. Indeed, it was even hard on the page boys, as the King was getting impatient with everything. The guests were arriving and met with such a troubled reception that they began to think they were not wanted. The Queen tried to convince the King that the fruits were not needed, but in vain. At last the day came. Somehow, without the merry men from the East to tell their fortunes and entertain them, it lost its glamor. Suddenly a flourish of trumpets was heard throughout the castle! Had the watchman sighted them at last? Ah yes! There it was, a long caravan moving slowly up the road. The fruits! The feast goes on!” The King cried. The draw bridge was opened, the gates swung wide, and never in all England was a group of merry travelers given a heartier and more joyous welcome than that caravan from the Far East bearing the fruits for the King. Mildred Parsons, High Eight. CNO C+J The Bells Reflection The bells chime out their message For they know that Christ was born In a manger crude and shabby And they know it’s Christmas morn. The bells chime out their tidings For the coming glad New Year, For love and hope abiding And they know that Christ is near. A tiny tot, quite all alone That Christmas Eve, caused me to stop; She stood beside a toy-filled shop Wherein the lights so gaily shone. Her f ace was wan — her clothes icere torn, She had no doll to love — caress; I thought — ff Could anyone do less Than bring these joy on Christmas Morn? ,, Selma Kair, Low Ten. Barbara Breckenridge, High Nine.

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