BEN ABDEL'S CHRISTMAS by Emma P. Seabury

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Dec 19, 1892

BEN ABDEL'S CHRISTMAS.

By Emma P. Seabury

BY EMMA P. SEABURY.

You have heard the olden story, of the Magi and their glory, How they came to Bethlehem by that one star's guiding light, Their gifts to Mary bringing, their costly treasures flinging, But have you heard why the little inn was crowded so that night?

Ben Abdel's heart was fired with the prophet's words inspired; He had read the holy pages till he almost seemed to hear The multitude that voices his gladness; he rejoices, For the time is ripe, the day fulfilled, his dear Messiah near.

So he journeyed through the nation with pomp and exaltation, With retinue and pageant, his gold and gems to bring; And his proud heart throbbed the faster as he thought of his dear Master, And the splendid, royal welcome that should greet Judea's King.

While he prayed in rapt devotion, came a murmur and commotion, And a sound of voices rising o'er the Babel of the din, While, with stolen glances wary, he saw the gentle Mary, And he heard them say to Joseph there was no room in the inn.

In the glory of the dawning of that early Christmas morning, Came the heralds full of wonder from the shepherds' tale afar, How they heard the angels singing; came the Indian sages bringing Gold and frankincense and jewels, guided thither by a star.

While Ben Abdel searched the heaven for the sign that should be given, When the King came in his glory, the Messiah, the Adored, In the stable's lowly manger, in the bosom of the stranger, Nestled, like a dove, the Saviour, the love message of the Lord.

And he went in unbelieving, as he scorned their vain deceiving, Never dreaming that his prayer had reached his Father's ear; With a faith unwavered going, hoping, praying, never knowing That the Saviour of his people and his kingdom was so near.

Oh, how often, in the gloaming of our faith, we all are roaming, Passing blessings, answered prayers, and the goals we long to win, When the joy, the peace, the sweetness of our purpose, in completeness, Wait, as Christ for proud Ben Abdel, in the stable at the inn.

You whose hearts are filled with scorning for the Jew this Christmas morning, Wondering at his Christ rejected, at his doubting blindness, too; You who know his holy living, his Gethsemane, his giving, In your heart's most sacred temple does your Saviour wait for you?

—The Advance.