The Story of the Christmas Guest

This beautiful poem was adapted by Helen Steiner Rice from an old German Legend. Ethel has always known it by heart and it's probably her most requested monologue.

It happened one day at the year’s white end, two neighbours called on an old time friend,

And found his shop, so meagre and mean, made gay with a thousand boughs of green,

And Conrad was sitting with face ashine, when suddenly he stopped as he stitched a twine,

And said, “Old friends, at dawn today, when the cock was crowing the night away,

The Lord appeared in a dream to me and said, “I’m coming your guest to be.”

So I’ve been busy with feet astir, strewing my shop with branches of fir,

The table is spread, and the kettle is shined, and over the rafters the holly is twined,

And now I will wait for the Lord to appear, and listen carefully so I will hear

When he nears my humble place, then I will open the door and look in His face.

So his friends went home and left Conrad alone, for this was the happiest day he had known,

For long since his family had passed away, and Conrad had spent many a sad Christmas day,

But he knew with the Lord as his Christmas guest, this Christmas would be the happiest and best.

So he listened with only joy in his heart, and at every sound he would rise with a start,

And look for the Lord to be standing there, in answer to his earnest prayer.

So he ran to the window after hearing a sound, but all that he saw on the snow-covered ground,

Was a shabby old begger, whose shoes were worn, and all of his clothes shabby and torn,

And Conrad was touched, and he said: “Your feet must be frozen and sore,

I have some shoes in my shop for you, and a coat that’ll keep you warmer, too.”

So with grateful thanks the man went away, but as Conrad noticed the time of day,

He wondered what made the Dear Lord so late, and how much longer he would have to wait…

Then he heard a knock and went to the door, but it was only a stranger once more,

A bent old crone in a shawl of black, a bundle of faggots piled high on her back.

She only asked for a place to rest, but that was reserved for Conrad’s Great Guest.

But her voiced seemed to plead: “Don’t send me away, let me rest for a while on Christmas Day.”

So Conrad brewed her a steaming cup, and bade her sit at the table and sup.

But after she’d gone he was filled with dismay, for the hours of Christmas were passing away,

And the Lord had not come as he said he would, and Conrad felt sure that he’d misunderstood.

When out of the silence he heard a cry. “Please help me and tell me – where am I?”

Again, Conrad opened his friendly door, and stood disappointed as twice before.

It was only a child who had wandered away, and was lost from her family on Christmas day.

Again, Conrad’s heart was heavy and sad, but he knew he should make this little child glad,

So he called her in and dried her tears, and quieted all her childish fears.

Then he took her back to her home once more. But as he re-entered his own darkened door,

He knew that the Lord was not coming today, for the hours of Christmas had passed away.

So he went to his room, and knelt down to pray And he said: “Dear Lord, why did you delay?

What kept you from calling on me? For I wanted so much your face to see…”

When soft in the silence a voice he heard, Saying, “Lift up your head, for I kept my word.

Three times I came to your lonely door.

Three times my shadow crossed your floor.

For I was the beggar with the bruised cold feet.

I was the woman you gave to eat.

And I was the child on the homeless street.”

Christmas Thoughts

At aht past five, or ther abaht,
One early Christmas morn,
Ah ed ter go an look at t'beast
Ter see if t'calf wer born.

Arahnd mi legs mi sheep dog come
An t'storm lamps' glow were breet
Through t'dark stockyard ah med mi way,
It'd been a frosty neet.

Ah put t'lamp dahn, an drew back t'bolts
Then entered t'misstle low
T'owd cat loped off on t'beams ower 'ed
An t'cows did nowt but chow.

Ah looked to see that t'cow were reet
An noan tekin any harm
An t'other beasts lingered fast asleep
An t'place were nice an warm.

Mi thowts went back ter Christmas time
When t'little bairn first cried
In such a mistle far away
We're t'couple ad ter bide.

Ah opened t'door an stood in t'yard
Mi heart sang Carols - reet.
Ah looked at t'clear starry sky ower head
An thowt - bi gum - I've captured Christmas Neet.

Preparations

Ah shall have ter bi gettin mi trimmins aht
A t'Wesley cups dahn for t'tree
Am flayed as some got brokken last year
Ah'll hev ter av a quick look an see

Mi cleanin up a'most finished
Ah've nobbut mi kitched ter do
Through t'holiday ah'll know it's been bottomed
Ah'll just need ter vac an dust through.

Ah've gotten mi puddin an spice cade made
Mi cards are all written an all
Some wi Christmas trees, holly an mistletoe on
An sum wi stockings hung on t'chimney wall.

Bairns av already been singing at t'door
They seem ter come sooner ivvery year.
Wi nobbut just get t'plot neet ower
When t'carol singers are here!

Christmas wouldn't be t'same wi owt children
An Father Christmas play 'is part
Ee, ah luv all t'hustle an bustle
Ah'm nobbut a bairn mi sen at heart.

But in t'middle of all t'preparations
Carols, holly an mistletoe,
Wi moan' loise sight of what it's all abaht
Summat at 'appened soa long ago.

There'd be no mince pies that first Christmas,
No tree - not even a card.
Ther wer nobbut straw on t'stable floor
An t'muck ud trail in through t'backyard.

Carols wer sung bi t'Angels
Ter t'shepherds aht there on t'hill.
Glory an praise be ter God, they sang,
An Peace to All an Goodwill.

For God's Son ad come ter live wi us,
Among all ahr worry an fret.
Aye, love ud come dahn at Christmas,
An that's summat we mustn't ferget.

Ethel's favourite... Footprints

One night, a woman had a dream.

She dreamed she was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Across the sky flashed scenes from her life.

For each scene she noticed two sets of footprints in the sand.
On belonged to her, the other to the Lord.

When the last scene of her life flashed before her,
she looked back at the footprints in the sand.

She noticed that many times along the path of his life
there was only one set of footprints.

She also noticed that it happened at the very lowest
and saddest times of her life.

This bothered her so, and she questioned the Lord:
"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you,
that I you would walk with me all the way.
But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times of my life,
there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why, when I wanted you most, you would leave me."

The Lord replied:
"My daughter, I love you and would never leave you.
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was there that I carried you."

  
Ethel, at 100 years of age, sat on a bench commissioned in celebration of her birthday and bought by her family and many friends.

T'Messiah

Ted Buckley wer a smart lookin chap, yer naw,
When ee donned issen up a courtin ta goa.
E courted a lass a little bit soft, 
Bu'rree warn't much better, cos ee went middlin oft.

E went fower times a week, an sometimes moor,

E got there in good time, but he din't know when ter goa.

But ther once come a neet when he were rather la,
T'poor lass din't know whether ee'd got lost er wat.

It were't Sunda afoor Christmas, ah well remember t'day,
Cos early snow ad fallen an reight thick it lay.
Nine o'clock struck an ther wer no sight a Ted
But she's noan 'ev expected him, if shoo'd been reight i'er 'ed.

Owivver shoo edn't much longer ta wait
Afoor sh'erd somda rettlin' at t'gate.

In a jiffy t'doar oppened an Ted walked straight in
Sher looked as farl as sher could, burr'ed same old grin.

"It's a rough neet," He said as ee sat dahn i't chair.
"Ther's bin many a war," shoo said wi a sneer.

"Ther's naw need ter blame it all o't snow.
Wheer tha bin callin, that's wharr Ah'd like ter know!"

He said, "Thah think Ah've bin ter t'pub suppin ale,
But tha'll change thi tune when Ah tells yer mi tale."

Ah've bin tert chepil t'arken to t'choir,
Ther've bin givin selections through 'Andel's Messiah.
T'new parson were theer burree dint speak long,
Cos ee wanted t'arken to this service o'song.

Ah can't remember each item just as it went,
But Ah'll try t'explain what Ah thowt it meant.

Ther sang o' some sheep as ad gotten astray
An bi what Ah understand ther'd all gone a different way.
Ah don't naw ah many or ah much ther cost,
But that dunt matter - main thing is, ther wer lost.

Then a young man gorrup an sung bi issen
Whether ther wer 'is sheeep at were lost, Ah sure ah can't tell.
Cos he sed ivvery mahntain an 'ill bi med low,
An Ah thowt - aye-up - ther bahn ter find t'sheep, choos weer ther goa.

Then a young lass gorrup an in a reight clear voice
Shoo said the'd no need ter sorrow, but greatly rejoice.
It wer a stiff piece - Ahm shoor it wer 'ard wark,
But shoo sang it as easy as if shoo wer a lark.

Ah axed oo sher wer, so's Ah could eer er again some day,
(Shoo's leadin serpranna an ther call er Miss Ray)
Then up jumped a chap - ee, an e wer cross,
Ah wondered if ther'd ta'en is sheep fer't them that wer lost!

E said ther'd imagined a vain thing an, ee, an e wer in a rage,
An t'organist banged as if e wer in for a wage!
T'audience wer fair suited - yer could tell bi ther face,
When 'id finished 'is piece an sat dahn in 'is place.

T'other singers were that mad at 'im bein sa clever,
Ther gorrup an sang it'd rain fer ivver an ivver.
So ah med fer t'doar as fast as Ah could,
Ah thowt Ah mun be off if ther's bahn ter be a flood."

So when e'd finished tellin 'er abaht t'Messiah,
E sed, "Nah then - attah satisfied, Sofia?"
Shoo sed, "EE, Ted, that sahnded fair grand."
An shoo'd go see it ersen next time it kem rahnd.

Th'Inkeeper's Story

Breakfast? Nay lass, Ah'm not 'ungry.
Ah nivver thowt abaht owt ter eat.
An Ah'm as breet as a button this morning,
When Ah thowt Ah'd bi deed on mi feet.

Last neet! Ther'll nivver be owt like it
If Ah live ter bi 'undred an ten.
Ah've bin changed owerneet somehow, Mary,
An Ah'm capped how it 'appened an when.

Yer'll recall that young couple through Nazareth?
We'd noweer ter put em in t'inn.
Well Ah fun 'em a place dahn in t'cowshed
But t'weather wer awfully thin.

So when Ah'd gor all't visitors settled,
An you wer asleep in yer bed,
Ah loisened owd Jess through 'er kennel
An wended mi way dahn ter t'shed.

It wer clearer than dayleet in t'farmyard
Almost midneet it wer - t'moon at full.
Not a glimmer from t'houses in't village,
An snow covered t'ground soft as wool.

They'd ed nowt ter eat, ter mi knowledge,
So ah took 'em a bite an a sup,
An some oil in case t'lamp wanted trimmin,
An swaddlin ter lap t'bairn up.

Then Ah fended ter t'cows an ter Jenny,
...Ah've nivver know t'cattle ser calm...
The Ah browt some clean straw dahn fer t'manger,
Just ter mek sure t'bairn wer warm.

Ah don't think they noticed mi scare like,
As Ah roamed abaht sidin't place through,
They were ta'en up wi looking at t'bairn
An 'is mother 'as same name as you!

Such a bonny wee bairn he is, Mary,
Poor thing almost lost among't straw.
But Ah couldn't disturb 'em much longer,
So Ah left 'em an stood aht in t'snow.

A still neet it wer, strange an quiet,
As Ah leaned up agen doar jamb.
Then Ah fancied Ah heard t'sound o' music
As though t'star wer singin a psalm.

At fust, well, Ah thowt Ah wer dreamin!
But they heard it on t'illtop an all.
An Ah seed 'em come running daht t'illside
An mekkin ther way dahn ter t'stall.

It wer Reuben an Shep an young Jimmy,
They'd bin up at t'top, tendin t'sheep.
Ther wer telled ter com dahn inter t'village
Weer ther'd find t'little bairn asleep.

Nah't strangest of all wer owd Rueben,
Leavin t'lambs nobbut yesterday born,
But all e would day when Ah asked 'im
Wer "T'Lord'll tak care on i's own."

Well, sommat wer drawin mi, Mary.
So Ah went in wi Reub an 'is men.
Wi stood a bit just lookin at t'bairn,
But Ah 'ardly know what 'appened then!

Wi went dahn on ahr knees, ther in t'stable,
While t'mother took t'bairn on 'er knees,
An she crooned a soft lullaby ower it,
While we knelt Reuben, Shep, Jim an me.

Nah, God's bairns, all on 'ems lovely,
Why ahr own wer a bonny wee thing,
An wi play wi 'em, nurse 'em an love 'em,
Yet we knelt ther like wi would to a king.

So that's why Ah'm noan varry 'ungry,
Ah's like ter walk t'ills all day long,
But we've t'visitors' meals ter see ter,
Varry soon we'll both on us bi throng!

But fust, walk wi mi ter t'cowshed,
Cos Ah've a feelin at someday, when we're owd,
We'll bi glad we looked after that bairn ther,
An fun it a place out o't cowd.

Ah'm Heavy on Cloas

Ah'v rivven mi britches!
Mi Mam'll play 'eck...
Ah wer just climin't gate
when ah copped 'em o't sneck.

Summat snagged on mi jumper
when Ah crawled i' mi den
nah't wool under't armoiles
'as unravelled itsen.

Ah've torn mi best coit,
an if that warn't enough,
Ah'v loisened all't stitches
arahnd mi shirt cuff.

Ah've lost a new glove -
nah ah'v only got one.
An ah put mi thumb through mi sock
when Ah were pullin it on!

Mi Mam's allus naggin'
but shoo didn't arf shrike
when Ah used mi shirt flap
fer cleanin' mi bike.

Ther's a split in mi booit -
it shows all mi toas.
No, ther's no doubt abaht it,
Ah'm 'eavy on cloas.