The Old Shoemaker

There lived in the city of Marseilles, 100 years ago, an old shoemaker,
loved and honored by all his neighbours, who affectionately called him
"Father Martin".

One Christmas eve, he sat alone in his little shop, reading about the
visit of the wise men to infant Jesus, and said to himself," If tomorrow is
the first Christmas and Jesus were to be born in Marseilles, I know what I
would give him." He arose and took from a shelf 2 little shoes of
softest snow white leather with white silver buckles. "I would give him these,
my finest work. How pleased his mother would be! But I'm a foolish old
man," he thought, smiling. "The master has no need of my poor gifts."

Replacing the shoes, he blew out the candle and retired to rest. Hardly
had he closed his eyes, it seemed, when he heard a voice called his name.
"Martin!" Intuitively, he felt aware of the identity of the speaker.
"Martin, you have long to see me. Tomorrow, I shall pass by your window
.
If you see me and bid me enter, I shall be your guest and sit at your
table."

He did not sleep that night for joy. Before it was yet dawn, he arose
and tidied up his little shop . Fresh sand he spread on the floor and green
boughs of fir he wreathed along the rafters. On the table, he placed a
loaf of white bread, a jar of honey and a pitcher of milk; and over the fire
he hung a hot drink. His simple preparations were completed.

When all was in readiness, he took up his vigil at the window. He was
sure he know the master.

As he watched the driving sleet of snow and rain, he saw an old road
sweeper pass by, blowing upon his gnarled hands to warm them. "Poor
fellow! He must be half frozen", thought Martin. Opening the door, he called
out to him, "Come in and get warm and drink something hot." No further urging
was needed, and the man gratefully accepted his invitation.

An hour passed and Martin next saw a poor miserably clothed woman
carrying a baby. She passed wearily to rest in the shelter of his doorway.
Quickly, he flung open the door. "Come in and get warm while you rest," he said
to her. "You are not well?" he asked.

I am going to the hospital. I hope they will take me and my baby in ,"
she explained. "My husband is out at sea and I am ill, without a soul I can
go to."

"Poor child!" cried the old man. "You must eat something while you are
getting warm. Let me give the little one a cup of milk. Ah! What a
pretty little fellow he is. Why, you have no shoes for him?"

"I have no shoes for him," replied the mother.

"Then he shall have this lovely pair I finished yesterday." And Martin
took down the soft little snow white shoes he had looked at the evening
before and slipped them on the child's feet. They fit perfectly. Shortly, the
young woman and her baby went away full of gratitude and Martin went
back to his post at the window.

Hours after hours went by and many needy souls shared the meager
hospitality of the old cobbler but the expected guest did not appear.

At last when night had fallen, Martin retired to bed with a heavy heart.
"It was only a dream." he sighed. "I did hope and believe but he has not
come."

Suddenly, the room was filled with a glorious light and there appeared
before him one by one, the poor street sweeper, the sick mother and her
baby and all the people whom he has aided during the day. Each one
smiled at him and said, "Have you not seen me? Did I not sit at your table."
and vanished.

Then softly out of the silence he heard again the gentle voice,
repeating the old familiar words, "Who so shall receive one such little child in
my name receiveth me."

Author unknown