“Glory to God in the highest, peace on earth, good will to men.”  And then it was morning and her mother was bending over her and saying, “Awake, awake, little Ruth.  Mother has something to tell thee.”  Then as the eyes opened slowly—­“The angels came in the night, little one, and left a Baby to lay beside your little white lamb in the manger.”

* * * * *

That afternoon, Ruth went with her mother to the fountain.  The mother turned aside to talk to the other women of the town about the strange things heard and seen the night before, but Ruth went on and sat down by the edge of the fountain.  The child, was not frightened, for strangers came often to the well, but never had she seen men who looked like the three who now came towards her.  The first one, a tall man with a long white beard, came close to Ruth and said, “Canst tell us, child, where is born he that is called the King of the Jews?”

“I know of no king,” she answered, “but last night while the star was shining, the angels brought a baby to lie beside my white lamb in the manger.”  The stranger bowed his head.  “That must be he.  Wilt thou show us the way to Him, my child?” So Ruth ran and her mother led the three men to the cave and “when they saw the Child, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy, and opening their gifts, they presented unto Him gold, and frankincense and myrrh,” with wonderful jewels, so that Ruth’s mother’s eyes shone with wonder, but little Ruth saw only the Baby, which lay asleep on its mother’s breast.

“If only I might hold Him in my arms,” she thought, but was afraid to ask.

* * * * *

After a few days, the strangers left Bethlehem, all but the three—­the man, whose name was Joseph, and Mary, his wife, and the Baby.  Then, as of old, little Ruth played about the courtyard and the white lamb frolicked at her side.  Often she dropped to her knees to press the little woolly white head against her breast, while she murmured:  “My little lamb, my very, very own.  I love you, lambie,” and then together they would steal over to the entrance of the cave to peep in at the Baby, and always she thought, “If I only might touch his hand,” but was afraid to ask.  One night as she lay in her bed, she thought to herself:  “Oh, I wish I had a beautiful gift for him, such as the wise men brought, but I have nothing at all to offer and I love him so much.”  Just then the light of the star, which was nightly fading, fell across the foot of the bed and shone full upon the white lamb which lay asleep at her feet—­and then she thought of something.  The next morning she arose with her face shining with joy.  She dressed carefully and with the white lamb held close to her breast, went slowly and painfully down the stairway and over to the door of the cave.  “I have come,” she said, “to worship Him, and I have brought Him—­my white lamb.”  The mother smiled at the lame child, then she lifted the Baby from her breast and placed Him in the arms of the little maid who knelt at her feet.