That Christmas morn I early woke
Eager to rise,
To see the bright skies,
Which brought that man when dawn had broke.
That man was a merchant of faraway lands.
He came every Christmas,
Came down to our isthmus,
And brought with him always a gift in his hands.
My mother and father came down in a hurry,
So glad for his coming,
Glad, yes, even humming.
We all sang a carol with the snow’s drumming flurry.
Then all of us got in the carriage to ride
To church celebrating,
Church illuminating
A time when God had Satan defied.
At church the choir sang glorious songs,
The Priest then blessed us,
Priest John talked of Jesus,
And we confessed to him all our wrongs.
Then after dismissal, we joyfully left
And gave our presents,
Gave gladly as peasants.
The Merchant’s scroll was of flaws bereft.
He told me to read it in solitude.
I went to my bed
Went slowly ahead
And read the verse which makes mine seem rude:
Theophilus, your hist’ry here is now for you displayed.
You now may learn your heritage, no longer be dismayed.
For though to know you oft have longed,
And feel you have by Fate been wronged,
I only now can tell you that for which your heart has craved.
‘Tis eighteen years and seven months from when your brother died,
And last of all your family, he wounded, sought to hide
You from all danger you must face
From all attacks of other race.
Thus came you both and waited; on my doorstep, frightened, lied.
So hurt that he could barely speak was Faithful One the brave,
Yet so devoted to his ewe, his little one to save.
A thousand deaths would he gladly die
Before a scratch could make her cry.
He pleaded that I might care for you, and gave me instructions grave:
“Please, good sir, I barely know ye, but true, I know you’re kind.
Please take this girl, my lonely sister, and with an oath yourself bind
To care for her with utmost love
And guard her with your strength from above.
Take charge of her, I pray, good sir. Please do not leave her behind.”
Said I to he, “I’ll do what I can, though I cannot guarantee,
Still, if she’s in danger, I swear I’ll protect her, with even my life if need be.
You prove it completely, so noble your action,
That she shall be worth care to your satisfaction.
I’ll find her a fam’ly as perfect as can be; all this I shall do for thee.”
Quoth he, “Thank ye, good sir, I’m indebted to thee, yet alas! for death knocks at my door.”
And although I did my best to heal him, your brother spoke no more.
I cleaned his wound from the gash of a blade
That I knew was in my country made.
For all the wrong my countrymen did, to this boy, my fealty I swore.
The next day, to the wharf I went, and boarded a ship departing.
With the babe mesmerized we heard the waves’ lap, and saw the fish to and fro darting.
Away from that curséd port we went far;
Away from the brilliant terrors of war.
And though in that war, all of Hell had descended, we two on our course were just starting.
At long last, we came to this city of Petra, this place of rock-solid protection.
To a thousand houses I went to find, for you, a place of perfection.
Then, one lady opened the door,
Her face lit up as the rainbow of yore.
She saw you and asked for you, begged for you, pleaded, and received you with much jubilation.
Yet your eyes could not stand that I wanted to leave; they held me there like a chain.
So the Angel of Light who held you so close said to come back next year again.
And every year at Christmas-time
I have longed to tell you of this rhyme.
Your brother gave it to me for you, for your coming of age at nineteen:
My sister, dear, what can I say?
Our Mother and Father are taken away.
They loved us so, I know that well,
But you’re so young, you can hardly tell.
I’m not much good at poetry,
But it’s how I can show my love for thee.
I wish to say goodbye to you,
I love you so, but alas! adieu.
I’d never known of my brother swell.
I’d often wondered,
Often pondered,
And now I like him awfully well.
I think I aught to have some pride
For the hand of provision,
Hand of noble decision,
For my brother, who for me has died.