Agatha Christie

Star Over Bethlehem: Christmas Stories and Poems


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II

      Things

       Beauty

       The Water Flows

       The Sculptor

       A Wandering Tune

      Places

       Ctesiphon

       In Baghdad

       An Island

       The Nile

       Dartmoor

       To a Cedar Tree

       Calvary

      Love Poems and Others

       Count Fersen to the Queen

       Beatrice Passes

       Undine

       Hawthorn Trees in Spring

       The Lament of the Tortured Lover

       What Is Love?

       To M.E.L.M. in Absence

       Remembrance

       A Choice

       My Flower Garden

       Enchantment

       Jenny by the Sky

      Verses of Nowadays

       From a Grown-up to a Child

       I Wore My New Canary Suit

       Racial Musings

       Picnic 1960

       About the Publisher

      STAR OVER BETHLEHEM

      STAR OVER BETHLEHEM

      and other stories

      by

      Agatha Christie Mallowan

       Decorations by

       Elsie Wrigley

      For Hydie

       A Greeting

      Praise to the Yule Log!

      Leap, Flames, merrily.

      Hail to the Wassail Bowl!

      Bubble,Wine, rosily!

      In the Manger lies the Child;

      Asses, Oxen, braying, lowing,

      Cackling Hens and Cocks a’crowing.

      Overfull the Inn to-night,

      Up above a star shines bright,

      Shepherds kneel beside their fold,

      Wise Men bring their gifts of Gold,

      Angels in the Sky above

      Trumpet forth God’s gift of Love.

      Waken, children, one and all,

      Wake to hear the trumpet call,

      Leave your sleeping, ’tis the Day,

      Christmas, glorious Christmas Day!

      Star over Bethlehem

      Mary looked down at the baby in the manger. She was alone in the stable except for the animals. As she smiled down at the child her heart was full of pride and happiness.

      Then suddenly she heard the rustling of wings and turning, she saw a great Angel standing in the doorway.

      The Angel shone with the radiance of the morning sun, and the beauty of his face was so great that Mary’s eyes were dazzled and she had to turn aside her head.

      Then the Angel said (and his voice was like a golden trumpet):

      ‘Do not be afraid, Mary....’

      And Mary answered in her sweet low voice:

      ‘I am not afraid, Oh Holy One of God, but the Light of your Countenance dazzles me.’

      The Angel said:‘I have come to speak to you.’

      Mary said:‘Speak on, Holy One. Let me hear the commands of the Lord God.’

      The Angel said: ‘I have come with no commands. But since you are specially dear to God, it is permitted that, with my aid, you should look into the future....’

      Then Mary looked down at the child and asked eagerly:

      ‘Into his future?’

      Her face lit up with joyful anticipation.

      ‘Yes,’ said the Angel gently.‘Into his future . . . Give me your hand.’

      Mary stretched out her hand and took that of the Angel. It was like touching flame – yet flame that did not burn. She shrank back a little and the Angel said again:

      ‘Do not be afraid. I am immortal and you are mortal, but my touch shall not hurt you. . . .’

      Then the Angel stretched out his great golden wing over the sleeping child and said:

      ‘Look into the future, Mother, and see your Son. . . .’

      And Mary looked straight ahead of her and the stable walls melted and dissolved and she was looking into a Garden. It was night and there were stars overhead and a man was kneeling, praying.

      Something stirred in Mary’s heart, and her motherhood told her that it was her son who knelt there. She said thankfully to herself: ‘He has become a good man – a devout man – he prays to God.’ And then suddenly she caught her breath, for the man had raised his face and she saw the agony on it – the despair and the sorrow . . . and she knew that she was looking