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.”