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The Little Book of the

He is not alone. A gentle young Mother bends over Him.

Her eyes are full of love and worship.

A tender watchful Mother.

Earth has never before seen such a mother. There never can be another like to her, so pure, so holy, like a spotless white lily-flower amongst the dark thorns of earth.

She has no better place this night wherein to lay her new-born Babe.

It is Mary, our Mother Mary.

His Mother and our Mother for ever, evermore.

A grave peaceful man watches over them, calm in the midst of all this scene of poverty.

Nothing can disturb him, nothing daunts him, for his heart belongs to God, to that little Child whose Foster-father he is henceforth.

It is Joseph, our own dear Saint Joseph.

The stars shine right down through the worn roof from the clear cold sky.