The Pearl Story Book Part 21

Martuin always had plenty to do because he was a faithful workman, used good materials, and always finished an order as early as he promised it.

In the evening when his work was done he would light his little oil lamp, take his book down from the shelf and begin to read. He had but one book, a Bible, and as he read he thought of the wonderful Christ-child. "Ah," he cried one night, "if He would only come to me and be my guest. If He should come, I wonder how I should receive Him." Martuin rested his head upon his hands and dozed. "Martuin," a voice seemed suddenly to sound in his ears.

He started from his sleep. "Who is here?" He looked around but there was no one.

Again he fell into a doze. Suddenly he plainly heard, "Martuin, ah, Martuin! Look to-morrow on the street. I am coming."

At daybreak next morning Martuin woke, said his prayer, put his cabbage soup and gruel on to cook and sat down by the window to work.

He worked hard but all the time he was thinking of the voice that he had heard. "Was it a dream," he said to himself, "or is He coming?

Shall I really see Him to-day?" When anyone pa.s.sed by in boots that he did not know he would bend down close to the window so that he could see the face as well as the boots.

By and by an old, old man came along; he carried a shovel. It was Stephanwitch. Martuin knew him by his old felt boots. He was very poor and helped the house porter with all the hard work. Now he began to shovel away the snow from in front of Martuin's window. Martuin looked up eagerly.

"Pshaw," said Martuin, "old Stephanwitch is clearing away the snow and I imagined the Christ-child was coming to see me." He looked again.

How old and feeble Stephanwitch looked.

"He is cold and weary," thought Martuin. "I will call him in and give him a cup of tea, the samovar must be boiling by now."

He laid down his awl, made the tea, and tapped on the window. "Come in and warm yourself," he said.

"May Christ reward you for this! My bones ache," said Stephanwitch.

Stephanwitch shook off the snow and tried to wipe his feet so as not to soil the floor, but he staggered from cold and weariness.

"Never mind that, I will clean it up. We are used to such things. Sit down and drink a cup of tea," said Martuin heartily.

Martuin filled two cups and handed one to Stephanwitch who drank it eagerly, turned it upside down, and began to express his thanks.

"Have some more?" said Martuin, refilling the cup.

"Are you expecting anyone?" asked Stephanwitch. "I see you keep turning to look on the street."

"I am ashamed to tell you whom I expect. I am, and I am not, expecting someone. You see, brother, I was reading about the Christ and how He walked on earth and I thought, 'If He came to me, should I know how to receive Him?' and I heard a voice, 'Be on the watch, I shall come to-morrow.' It is absurd, yet would you believe it, I am expecting Him, the Christ-child."

Stephanwitch shook his head but said nothing.

Martuin filled his guest's cup with hot tea and continued, "You see I have an idea He would come to the simple people. He picked out His disciples from simple working people like us. Come, brother, have some more tea."

But Stephanwitch rose. "Thanks to you, Martuin, for treating me kindly and warming me, soul and body."

"You are welcome, brother, come again."

Stephanwitch departed. Martuin put away the dishes and sat down by the window to st.i.tch on a patch. He kept looking out as he st.i.tched.

Two soldiers pa.s.sed by; one wore boots that Martuin had made; then the master of the next house; then a baker. Then there came a woman in woolen stockings and wooden shoes. Martuin looked up through the window. He saw she was a stranger poorly clad in shabby summer clothes. She had turned her back to the wind and was trying to shelter a little child who was crying.

Martuin went to the door and called out, "Why are you standing there in the cold? Come into my room where it is warm."

The woman was astonished when she saw the old, old man in his leather ap.r.o.n and big spectacles beckoning and calling to her, but she gladly followed him.

"There," said Martuin, "sit down near the stove and warm yourself."

Then he brought out bread, poured out cabbage soup, and took up the pot with the gruel.

"Eat, eat," he said. "I will mind the little one. Tell me, why are you out in this bitter cold?"

"I am a soldier's wife, but my husband has been sent far away. We have used up our money and I went to-day for work but they told me to come again."

Martuin sighed. "Have you no warm clothes?"

"Ah, this is the time to wear them, but yesterday I sold my last warm shawl for food."

Martuin sighed. He went to the little cupboard and found an old coat.

"Take it," he said. "It is a poor thing, yet it may help you." He slipped some money into her hand and with this said, "Buy yourself a shawl and food till work shall be found."

"May Christ bless you!" she cried. "He must have sent me to you. It had grown so cold my little child would have frozen to death, but He, the Christ-child, led you to look through the window."

"Indeed He did," said Martuin, smiling.

The woman left. Martuin ate some sheki, washed the dishes, and sat down again by the window to work. A shadow darkened the window.

Martuin looked up eagerly. It was only an acquaintance who lived a little further down the street. Again the window grew dark. This time Martuin saw that an old apple woman had stopped right in front of the window. She carried a basket with apples and over her shoulder she had a bag full of chips. One could see that the bag was heavy. She lowered it to the sidewalk and as she did so, she set the apples on a little post. A little boy with a torn cap darted up, picked an apple out of the basket and started to run but the old woman caught him, knocked off his cap, and seized him by the hair.

Martuin ran out in the cold. "Let him go, Babushka; forgive him for Christ's sake."

"I will forgive him so that he won't forget it till the new broom grows! I am going to take him to the police."

"Let him go, Babushka, let him go for Christ's sake. He will never do it again."

The old woman let him loose. The boy tried to run, but Martuin kept him back.

"Ask Babushka's forgiveness," he said, "and never do it again. I saw you take the apple."

With tears in his eyes the boy began to ask forgiveness.

"There, that's all right," said Martuin; "take the apple. I will pay for it."

"You ruin the good-for-nothings," said the old woman. "He should be well punished. He deserves it."

"Perhaps," answered Martuin, "but G.o.d forgives us though we deserve it not."

"Well, well," said the old woman, appeased, "after all it was but a childish trick." She started to lift the bag upon her shoulder.

"Let me take it," said the boy. "It is on my way."

Side by side they pa.s.sed along the street, the boy carrying the bag and chattering to the old woman. Martuin turned and went back into the little room.

After sewing a little while it grew too dark to see. He lighted his little lamp, finished his piece of work, put it away, and took down his Bible. Suddenly he seemed to hear someone stepping around behind him. In the dark corner there seemed to be people standing. Then he heard a voice, "Martuin, ah, Martuin, did you not know me?"

"Who?" cried Martuin.