Abbot Hans clasped his hands and dropped to his knees.  His face was radiant with bliss.  Never had he dreamed that even in this life it should be granted him to taste the joys of heaven, and to hear angels sing Christmas carols!

But beside Abbot Hans stood the lay brother who had accompanied him.  In his mind there were dark thoughts.  “This cannot be a true miracle,” he thought, “since it is revealed to malefactors.  This does not come from God, but has its origin in witchcraft and is sent hither by Satan.  It is the Evil One’s power that is tempting us and compelling us to see that which has no real existence.”

From afar were heard the sound of angel harps and the tones of a Miserere.  But the lay brother thought it was the evil spirits of hell coming closer.  “They would enchant and seduce us,” sighed he, “and we shall be sold into perdition.”

The angel throng was so near now that Abbot Hans saw their bright forms through the forest branches.  The lay brother saw them, too; but back of all this wondrous beauty he saw only some dread evil.  For him it was the devil who performed these wonders on the anniversary of our Saviour’s birth.  It was done simply for the purpose of more effectually deluding poor human beings.

All the while the birds had been circling around the head of Abbot Hans, and they let him take them in his hands.  But all the animals were afraid of the lay brother; no bird perched on his shoulder, no snake played at his feet.  Then there came a little forest dove.  When she marked that the angels were nearing, she plucked up courage and flew down on the lay brother’s shoulder and laid her head against his cheek.

Then it appeared to him as if sorcery were come right upon him, to tempt and corrupt him.  He struck with his hand at the forest dove and cried in such a loud voice that it rang throughout the forest, “Go thou back to hell, whence thou art come!”

Just then the angels were so near that Abbot Hans felt the feathery touch of their great wings, and he bowed down to earth in reverent greeting.

But when the lay brother’s words sounded, their song was hushed and the holy guests turned in flight.  At the same time the light and the mild warmth vanished in unspeakable terror for the darkness and cold in a human heart.  Darkness sank over the earth, like a coverlet; frost came, all the growths shrivelled up; the animals and birds hastened away; the rushing of streams was hushed; the leaves dropped from the trees, rustling like rain.

Abbot Hans felt how his heart, which had but lately swelled with bliss, was now contracting with insufferable agony.  “I can never outlive this,” thought he, “that the angels from heaven had been so close to me and were driven away; that they wanted to sing Christmas carols for me and were driven to flight.”

Then he remembered the flower he had promised Bishop Absalon, and at the last moment he fumbled among the leaves and moss to try and find a blossom.  But he sensed how the ground under his fingers froze and how the white snow came gliding over the ground.  Then his heart caused him ever greater anguish.  He could not rise, but fell prostrate on the ground and lay there.