The
Woodcutter's Christmas
 The
woodcutter lived with his family in a small
cottage inthe forest. His father had been a woodcutter too and
his father's father. It
was the only life he had known. He went to the town to bargain with the
traders
but he was always happiest when he was back home with the people he
loved. He
had been to the city. Once! The crowds and the noise were exciting but
soon
made him feel tired. He wouldn't go back.
Now he saw his neighbours and the
charcoal burners who passed by in the Autumn and he listened to the
birds
singing in the trees and he happily lived without the city and lived
with the
occasional trip to the town.
Autumn
was a busy time of year.
There
was lots to do. The trees needed their final cuts
before the winter set in, down to the ground and the rods piled up,
some for
the family and some to be taken to the town's Michaelmas market. That
was a
great day away for them all! If the year had been good to them they
would have
a pig to take as well. At
times they heard the hunt pass nearby in the forest,
horns and the crash of horses' hooves. But they never saw the hunters.
Autumn began when the charcoal
burners dug their pits and
burnt their wood. The smoke came snaking its way through the
trees, the smell
of the year changing. Sometimes they made their camp near to the house
and the
woodcutter and his family could hear them singing in the night.
Once or twice one or more of the
charcoal burners came to
the house. They were gentler in person than they looked. Big men, their
faces
black with the woodsmoke, they came for water or sometimes to drink a
mug of
beer with the woodcutter. This
year had been hard. It was difficult for the farmer because their crops
had not grown. When the family went to market at the end of Autumn the
people there were sad and worried. They gave the Abbot his share and
when the family returned along the woodland paths they took some of the
town's sadness with them. They knew Winter would be hard. It was good
that the woodcutter's wife had made bacon for them this year. Martinmas,
the last feast of Autumn, was bacon and sausages and stores of wood and
chestnuts for the Winter. This year not so much, but God willing it
would be enough.
When the weather got colder, the
forest became even quieter.
Some of the birds had left now and the woodcutter could smell the cold
weather
coming. The
snow came early this year and lay thinly on the ground by St Nicholas
Day. The woodcutter and his wife smiled as the children Hans and Greta
found their presents. The woodcutter had found some wood and he made a
pig for Hans and a nanny goat for Greta. In
the forest, the night came quickly and the family stayed inside by
their fire, keeping themselves warm. Hans liked to watch his mother and
father talking in the flickering light as he lay on his bed waiting for
sleep. Midwinter
came and went, the darkest time of year. It brought with it a cold wind
and more snow in the clearing in the forest. The woodcutter had to
knock the snow from their roof to keep them safe. When he came inside
from one storm he was covered head to foot in snow. The woodcutter's
wife warmed his beer on the fire On
Christmas
Eve the wind howled around the house, poking in its fingers under the
roof and around the door. The windows were shuttered tight. The wind
was shaking the door, they could hear it over the crackling
fire.
Bang. Bang. "There is
someone outside," said the woodcutter's wife. "Don't be foolish," replied the
woodcutter. The children looked at him with wide eyes. Bang. Bang. "It is the wind," said the woodcutter. "Will
you look?" asked the woodcutter's wife. "We must offer hospitality to a
visitor on this Holy Night.  We cannot turn anyone away." The
woodcutter was a little afraid but he
knew his wife was right. When he opened the door he was
amazed. "My
dear, come quickly! It is a child! A child - on a night like this one!" His
wife hurried to the door, picked up the shivering
child and carried him inside where it was warm. The woodcutter pulled
the door shut. "But how
could a tiny child..?"
the woodcutter's woife began. "But he is freezing cold. We must wrap
him
in blankets and furs and warm him some milk." They
wrapped the child in warm blankets and gave him the milk to drink. The
little boy smiled at them but did not speak. The woodcutter's wife sang
him a song while the woodcutter held him on his knee. Hans and Greta
brought their wooden St Nicholas toys to him and gave them him to play
with. "He shall have my bed.
I shall sleep on the floor tonight," said Hans. The
child was moved to Hans' bed, while Hans lay wrapped in blankets on the
floor beside. Greta was soon asleep and Hans heard the little boy
sighing in sleep behind him while he watched his mother and father in
the firelight and soon he fell asleep too. The
light woke them all. A bright golden light around the windows and the
door. The woodcutter, very afraid now, went to the door and Hans
noticed the  little boy behind him was not
there anymore. The family
stood in their house, huddled beside each other as the woodcutter
pushed open the door. The
sky was full of the
golden light, like it had been split open to reveal what was inside.
The light did not hurt their eyes and in the light a multitude of
angels were singing and playing and dancing. In the snow in front of
the house stood the little boy. He was golden like the sky and seemed
brighter still. The family knew that this was the Christ Child and it
was Jesus who had come to their small, humble home on the night of
Christmas Eve. The
angels' music was in the boy's voice and he said "You sheltered me and
gave me what you had to give, even though you have little. You were
afraid but your kindness was bigger than your fear. Here is my present
to you for this Christmas and for all your other Christmases." And
there, growing in the snow, was a small fir tree, covered with
beautiful glass and paper and wooden figures. There were candles
flickering on its branches. And its bells played out the angels' music
which stayed while the sky turned from gold to grey. The storm had
passed. The family spent their Christmas morning in the clearing by the
tree and every year carefully packed away the treasures from its
branches to bring them out again every year and wonder at the present
they had been given..
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