“Never mind,” said Gretchen softly to herself, “the stars are up there, even if I can’t see them, and the Christmas angels do not mind snow storms.”

Just then a rough wind went sweeping by the little girl, whispering something to her which she could not understand, and then it made a sudden rush up to the snow clouds and parted them, so that the deep mysterious sky appeared beyond, and shining down out of the midst of it was Gretchen’s favorite star.

“Ah, little star, little star!” said the child, laughing aloud, “I knew you were there, though I could not see you.  Will you whisper to the Christmas angels as they come by that little Gretchen wants so very much to have a Christmas gift tomorrow morning, if they have one to spare, and that she has put one of Granny’s shoes upon the windowsill for it?”

A moment more and the little girl, standing on tiptoe had reached the windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the house beside Granny and the warm fire.

The two went quietly to bed, and that night as little Gretchen knelt to pray to the Heavenly Father, she thanked him for having sent the Christ-Child into the world to teach all mankind to be loving and unselfish, and in a few minutes she was sleeping, dreaming of the Christmas angels.

The next morning, very early, even before the sun was up, little Gretchen was awakened by the sound of sweet music coming from the village.  She listened for a moment and then she knew that the choir boys were singing the Christmas carols in the open air of the village street.  She sprang up out of bed and began to dress herself as quickly as possible, singing as she dressed.  While Granny was slowly putting on her clothes, little Gretchen having finished dressing herself, unfastened the door and hurried out to see what the Christmas angels had left in the old wooden shoe.

The white snow covered everything—­trees, stumps, roads, and pastures—­until the whole world looked like fairy land.  Gretchen climbed up on a large stone which was beneath the window and carefully lifted down the wooden shoe.  The snow tumbled off of it in a shower over the little girl’s hands, but she did not heed that; she ran hurriedly back into the house, putting her hand into the toe of the shoe as she ran.

“Oh, Granny, Granny!” she exclaimed; “you did not believe the Christmas angels would think about us, but see, they have, they have!  Here is a dear little bird nestled down in the toe of your shoe!  Oh, isn’t he beautiful?”

Granny came forward and looked at what the child was holding lovingly in her hand.  There she saw a tiny chick-a-dee, whose wing was evidently broken by the rough and boisterous winds of the night before, and who had taken shelter in the safe, dry toe of the old wooden shoe.  She gently took the little bird out of Gretchen’s hands, and skilfully bound his broken wing to his side, so that he need not hurt himself trying to fly with it.  Then she showed Gretchen how to make a nice warm nest for the little stranger, close beside the fire and when their breakfast was ready, she let Gretchen feed the little bird with a few moist crumbs.