by Anna C. Pertsch

"Mama, why are all those trees near people's houses so bright at night?"

Chauncey the Raccoon was curious. That was nothing new. He drove his mother wild with his continual questioning: "Why are the trees green? Where are the birds going? Who owns that bush? How does a bee fly? Are butterflies the same as birds?" On and on went the questions even as they had been going on ever since baby Chauncey first teetered at the door of their home high up in a tree trunk and called out to his mother, "How do I get down from here?" At that time she had come to the rescue and carried him down to the ground. Since then he had learned how to get up and down the tree without breaking his neck.

His mother was very proud of Chauncey. He asked lots of questions and poked his nose into all kinds of things, but he learned a great deal that way. He was very clever and it was obvious that he would grow up to be a handsome raccoon. His little tail was already becoming very bushy and his masked face wore a most intelligent expression. Since she wanted her baby to be the brightest youngster in the woods, Mama raccoon answered his questions as well as she could.

But now her nerves were on edge. She didn't know the answer to Chauncey's question and she was annoyed. He shouldn't have been wandering around outside on a cold winter night. No sensible raccoon did that in cold weather when the snow was on the ground. The proper thing to do was stay at home in their nice cozy den where they could snooze all cuddled up to one another and keep warm. His brother and sisters had learned to do that and they weren't nearly as clever as Chauncey, but he was the headstrong one in the litter and so it wasn't too surprising that he would go outside in this weather. Mama raccoon sighed. What she really worried about was Chauncey's spying around people's houses. Many people were very friendly but some of them hunted raccoons and she was afraid one of them might shoot Chauncey.

The little fellow wasn't worried about that, however. What disturbed him now was the fact that the big evergreen trees and bushes around many people's houses were sparkling with colored lights like big lightning bugs. Chauncey had never seen that before and he wanted to know the reason for it. Since Mama raccoon seldom went out in the winter, she had not seen this unusual sight and couldn't explain it, so she said simply, "It's a people thing, Chauncey."

"But why do people light up their trees and how do they do it, Mama, huh?" persisted Chauncey and finally his mother had to admit, "I don't know. Now go to sleep and don't bother your silly head about it any more."

Chauncey grumbled under his breath. He didn't feel like sleeping. In spite of the fact that he had grown very plump for the winter, he was not content just to sleep. There were so many interesting things to see and to do. He looked around in the dark den. Mama was already asleep and his brother and two sisters were in dreamland too, so wrapped up in one another that it was hard to tell whose feet and tail belonged to whom. He felt along the side of the tree room and found a small hole that he used to hide his treasures—a paper clip, a penny, a marble, and his prize possession—the shiny thing. This was a very small, odd shaped stone set in a gold circle, clear as the water in the brook, but very bright when the light shone on it. In the sunlight or the moonlight it sparkled in many colors. It felt lovely and smooth to touch, too, and Chauncey liked to hold it in his paw and run his little finger over it. He took it out from its hiding place now—very quietly so as not to awaken the others—and he sat at the door of the den and let the moonlight fall on the stone. My, it was pretty! He was proud of his treasure and he intended to keep it all for himself forever. After all, he had found it out in the woods, so it was his by right. The others could find their own shiny things if they weren't too lazy to look for them. He wasn't even going to show this to Mama, for fear she might drop it and he would lose it. He just sat there now fingering it, sniffing it, tasting it and admiring it. It made him feel very rich to own such a lovely shiny thing, but it also reminded him of those lighted trees and once more the questions came to his mind. Why would people put lights on trees? Why did they do it in the winter time when so many people and animals were inside most of the time? It must mean something, but what? He decided to go out for another look, but first he put the shiny thing back in its hiding place. Then he shinnied down the tree trunk, his little eyes shining in the moonlight just like the lights on the trees he was going to see.

There they were, the trees and bushes around people's homes shining like stars dropped out of the sky and the white snow all around glittered and sparkled like Chauncey's shiny thing. He could see through the windows of some houses, too, because most of them were all lighted up, and he became even more curious. Not too cautiously he scurried over to a house with a very large window close to the ground and he sat up like a squirrel so he could see better. People were inside doing all kinds of strange things. Some were hanging circles of evergreens over the fireplace, others were working at a table covered with boxes and ribbons and pieces of paper and—good heavens—there in a corner of the room was a tree! Chauncey blinked his eyes. True, he hadn't ever been inside a people house, but his mother had told him that all trees grew outside in the woods where they could serve as houses for raccoons and other forest folk. But it was a tree, sure enough, and there were all kinds of things growing on it—peculiar things of all shapes, long strings of sparkly stuff and lights. And on top—my goodness—was that a star? Chauncey had seen all sorts of trees in his young life, but never anything like this. He would have to ask his mother—but, no, she wouldn't know about this any more than she knew about the lights on the trees outside the houses. Besides, she would scold him for going out and for getting so close to the people houses.

He simply had to find out what this was all about, though. Now, who would know? Chauncey thought and thought and suddenly it came to him. Of course! He would go ask his cousin, Englebert. Englebert was a little older than Chauncey and he lived alone in a tree near the house with the tall point on the roof. He was sort of silly sometimes, and Chauncey's mother didn't approve of him because of the chances he was always taking, but Englebert knew an awful lot because he really got around.

So Chauncey headed for Englebert's house. The going wasn't hard because the snow was frozen and he could run over it very easily. It crackled as he ran and it was a trifle slippery, but Chauncey didn't mind that. At the bottom of the tree, Chauncey called to his cousin. At first there was no reply. After a few moments, however, a masked face appeared in the den doorway, about halfway up the tree and a drowsy voice said, "Go away! I'm sleeping."

"Wake up, then," replied Chauncey, "and come down here, I've got to ask you something about some things."

"Oh, it's you," moaned Englebert. "I might have known. Do you know it's winter, it's cold, there's snow on the ground and it's nighttime? Why aren't you in bed?"

"Come on down," repeated Chauncey, ignoring his cousin's questions. "O.K." replied Englebert, slithering down the icy tree trunk. When he got to the ground he turned a clumsy somersault, rolled over a few times and then playfully nipped Chauncey's leg.

"Ouch!" yelled Chauncey. "Now stop that and be serious! I want some information."

"You've come to the right place, chum. Englebert the Wise they call me. What do you want to know? Where did the violets go? Who makes the flowers grow? What brings the winter snow? I'm a poet and don't know it!" And Englebert rolled himself into a ball which made him look like a big round furry barrel.

"Cut it out!" pleaded Chauncey. "Have you seen the lights on the trees down there near the people's houses?"

"Sure," answered Englebert. "Is that all you wanted to ask? Easy question, easy answer. Now I can go to bed." And he started back up the tree. Chauncey grabbed him just in time and yanked him back down.

"No, that's not all I want to know," he said. "I want you to tell me why those lights are on the trees and why the people are doing all kinds of strange things and why they have a tree inside the house and what kind of tree it is and what's growing on it and why is there a star on top and..." Chauncey gasped for breath and Englebert chuckled, "Boy! you want to know a lot, don't you?"

"Yes," replied Chauncey. "Do you know the answers to my questions?"

"Sure," replied Englebert. "Come on up to my house and let's talk in comfort. It's cold down here."

Up in the tree den Englebert stretched out comfortably while Chauncey sat up in a very alert position. It was warm and cozy here and he did not want to get drowsy and miss anything Englebert might tell him. "Well," he said impatiently, "start talking. Tell me all you know about those trees and..."

"O.K! O.K.!" snapped Englebert, rolling over. "The whole thing is on account of 'Christmas' coming."

"What's Christmas?" asked Chauncey.

"Boy! Are you dumb!" exclaimed Englebert. "Christmas is the birthday of Jesus."

"Who is Jesus?" inquired Chauncey.

"Let me ask you a question," retorted his cousin. "Do you know about God?"

"Oh yes," Chauncey answered. "He is the Creator of the world. He made all of us—humans and animals and trees and flowers—just everything. And He loves us and takes care of us."

"Right! Well, Jesus is the Son of God and many years ago He came to earth as a little baby."

"A people baby?" asked Chauncey.

"Yes," replied Englebert. "He was God, you see, but He wanted to be like people—to live with them and to show them how to be good people and to help them to get to Heaven where they could be happy with Him always."

"That's beautiful," Chauncey commented. "And that's Christmas? His birthday? So why the lights on the trees?"

Englebert stretched himself. "Jesus is called the Light of the World and so when people celebrate His birthday they use a lot of lights—to remind them of Him."

"But what's the tree doing inside the house?"

"That's an evergreen tree. Because it never changes, but is always green, it reminds people of God, Who never changes. They trim the tree with all kinds of ornaments to make it festive for Our Lord's Birthday. Sometimes the ornaments are made to look like things that remind us of Jesus or things that happened when He was born."

"Like the star on top?" asked Chauncey. "What does that remind us of?"

"When Jesus was born, a big star shone over the stable. The star on the tree reminds us of that."

"Did you say 'stable?' Jesus was a 'people,' wasn't He? People aren't born in stables, are they?"

"Not usually, but Jesus was because none of the people in the town would let His Mother in, so she had to go to a cave that was used as a stable, and that's where Jesus was born."

"Gosh," said Chauncey and his usually bright eyes became still brighter with tears. "That's awful. I would have let her use my tree house if she wanted to."

Englebert started to go to sleep, but Chauncey woke him up by exclaiming: "Hey, Englebert, were there animals in the stable?" "Sure," replied his cousin sleepily. There was an ox and a donkey."

"What's a donkey?" asked Chauncey.

"Good grief. Don't you ever run out of questions?" mumbled Englebert. "It's—it's—..." He tried to find some way to describe a donkey. Finally he said, "It's an animal that looks like a raccoon, only it's larger, a different color, has longer ears and legs, and a thinner tail and it says 'Eehaah'".

"That's not much help," Chauncey remarked. "I wish I could see one."

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do," Englebert said, sitting up and pointing a finger at his little cousin "You go home now and early tomorrow at sunset you come over here and I'll take you over to the church. We'll have dinner and then I'll show you the Christmas scene they have inside the church. Then you can see everything—the Baby Jesus and His Mother and St. Joseph and the ox and the donkey—all of them. O.K.?"

"What's a church?" asked Chauncey.

"That place over there." Englebert went to the door and motioned toward the house nearby with the pointed roof. "That's a church—St. Joseph's, it's called."

"Who lives there?" asked Chauncey.

"God lives there—and a priest lives in the house next door. He feeds me all kinds of great food every night down in the church basement. He won't mind if I bring you along. He likes raccoons."

"Boy!" shouted Chauncey. "That's great!

I'll be here. I've always wanted to meet a people close up. And now I'll see God's house, too,—Oh," he persisted, while Englebert tried to shove him out the door. "Will I see God, too?"

Englebert heaved a sigh. "I doubt it," he said. "Now will you get out of here and let me get some shuteye? Your questions are driving me nuts."

"O.K. I'm going," answered Chauncey and he clambered down the tree and ran home. Once there, he shinnied up to his den where Mama and his brother and sisters were still fast asleep. But he was too excited to sleep. Instead he took his shiny thing out of its hiding place and stroking it gently he murmured to himself, "I bet I will see God. It's His house, isn't it? So if He's home I'll see Him. Boy! I can hardly wait!"

Although Chauncey finally settled down to get some sleep, he kept on waking up from excitement. Each time he awoke he would crawl over this mother and sisters and brother who were all curled up in tight little bundle keeping each other warm, and he would look out the door of the tree house to see if it was getting dark yet. Even though the days were very short, it seemed to Chauncey that the sun was shining much longer than usual. Finally he decided no to go to sleep again because he was afraid he would miss the sunset and be late for his appointment with Englebert. So he wiled away the time by playing with, the shiny thing which glittered even more in the sunlight than it did in the light of the moon.

At last the sun sank slowly in the west. Chauncey returned the shiny thing to its hiding place, slithered down the tree trunk and hurried over to Englebert's house. His cousin's sleepy face leaned out the door when Chauncey called.

"O.K., O.K., I'm coming," muttered Englebert and a few minutes later he scrambled down the tree to join Chauncey.

"Are we going to God's house now? .asked Chauncey. "Will we see the Baby Jesus and His Mother and St. Joseph and the donkey?"

"Don't be so impatient," grunted Englebert, leading the way through some snow covered bushes that stood at the back of the church. "First we go through this door that leads to the basement and get some dinner."

Chauncey looked crestfallen. "How are we going to get in?" he asked. "The door is closed."

"You don't know anything, do you?" replied Englebert. "A simple thing like that and for you it's a problem. You just open the door, dumb dumb. How else would you get in?" He walked up to the door, stood up on his hind legs, reached for the doorknob with his little hand like claws, turned it, and the door opened.

"Gosh," commented Chauncey. "That's great! You know how to do just about everything, don't you?" "Of course," replied Englebert. "Now, come on down these steps. See, there's Father Nicholas waiting for us."

Chauncey saw a man standing in the room below. He looked very nice and he smiled when he spotted the two furry animals coming down the steps. "Hello, my friend," said the man. "As always, you're in time for dinner. I see you've brought a little pal. Well there's plenty for both of you. I'd better get another bottle of soda though."

Englebert immediately climbed up on a chair and from there to a table where a large tin plate held slices of chicken, bread, some grapes and a piece of fruit cake. Next to the plate was a bowl filled with water and a bottle of cherry soda.

"It's a special dinner tonight because it's Christmas Eve," Father Nicholas said. "Eat hearty, fellows, I have to go now because I've got a thousand things to do before Midnight Mass. Merry Christmas!" And he walked out of the room and up another flight of stairs.

Chauncey had never eaten food like this before. He kept saying: "What's this? What's that?" and Englebert would reply, "Try it. Stop asking stupid questions and eat."

Englebert took a piece of chicken, swished it around in the bowl of water, and then ate it. Chauncey's mother had taught him about washing food before he ate it, but this was his first experience with a bowl of water. He had always rinsed his food in the stream. Now he put one paw on the edge of the bowl and almost tipped it over. "Watch out!" yelled Englebert. "These are people things; you've got to be more careful."

Soon Chauncey was chomping away at the food, delighted with the many new tastes he was experiencing. The bottle of soda had him completely puzzled. After his experience with the bowl he was afraid to touch it, but he kept watching to see what Englebert would do with it. At last Englebert grabbed the bottle in his little hands, put it to his mouth and started to drink. "Drink up," he said to Chauncey, who, imitating his cousin's actions, took the bottle and put it to his mouth. At the first taste, he sighed blissfully. "Boy! is this stuff good!" he exclaimed and started drinking in earnest. When the bottle was nearly empty, Englebert showed him how to get the very last drop by lying on his back and holding the bottle in a tilted position with his front and hind paws.

When the two raccoons were blissfully full of food, Chauncey said, "Now, can we go see God?"

"Look," explained Englebert, "I told you—you won't see God. What I'm going to show you is the crib upstairs in the church."

"What's the crib?" asked Chauncey.

"It's statues of Jesus and His Mother and..."

"What are statues?" Chauncey inquired.

"They're like pictures, only..."

"What are pictures?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, stop asking so many questions! "Come along, I'll show you," answered Englebert, leading the way up the steps that Father Nicholas had used earlier. They led to a small room behind the altar, where Chauncey wanted to explore and look at all the cabinets and candlesticks and trays of vigil lights that lined the walls, but Englebert showed him through a door that led out into the sanctuary near the altar.

Chauncey was spellbound. He had never seen anything like this before. The white altar, the red poinsettias, the gleaming candlesticks, the flickering vigil lights, the moonlight streaming through the glass windows, and there, at one side of the altar, a small forest of pine trees surrounded the manger scene. At first Chauncey thought there were real people in the crib, but Englebert explained in a whisper that these were just images. Chauncey was fascinated by the lovely Baby, and His pretty Mother, by St. Joseph, the shepherds, the ox and the donkey. Suddenly he looked up and exclaimed: "What kind of a bird is that? It looks like a people."

"Don't talk so loud," Englebert admonished him. "In church you should whisper if you have to talk. That's not a bird. That's an angel."

"What's an angel?" whispered Chauncey.

"It's a spirit—one of God's messengers," replied Englebert.

"What's a spirit?" queried Chauncey, but Englebert didn't answer him because he didn't really know how. Luckily, Chauncey's attention had turned to something else. He had noticed a little boxlike object with a door standing on a small table. There was a light burning in front of it. "What's that?" he asked.

"That's where Jesus lives," Englebert explained.

"Then that's God's own room, isn't it?" Chauncey exclaimed excitedly. "You said Jesus is God and if Jesus lives in there—then God lives there. What's the light for?"

"It shows that Jesus is at home," replied Englebert.

"Then maybe He'll come out and we'll see Him," Chauncey said. "I knew I'd see God tonight, I just knew it!"

Englebert sighed. He was afraid this was going to be a difficult night. He'd never get his cousin out of here now without his seeing God. He managed to get him back into the sacristy and explained to him that Jesus only came out to the little room called a tabernacle when the priest took Him out of there. That led to the necessity of Englebert's explaining a little about Mass and how Jesus came to people in Holy Communion and how He had made Himself small like a piece of bread so that He could come to people and stay with them. Chauncey was thrilled. "I want to see Jesus," he insisted. "Can't we stay to see Him?"

"Well," Englebert finally consented. "O. K., but you have to be very quiet. I'll tell you what we'll do. See all those trees around the crib out there? We'll crawl under them and hide there during Midnight Mass. We won't be seen, but we'll be able to see and hear everything. Hold it...!" he yelled as Chauncey dived out the door and made for the trees. "Be careful!" Those trees are not rooted, you know. They're in holders and if you knock one over you'll be in real trouble."

Cautiously then the two fat and furry raccoons climbed in among the trees. "Pull your tail in," warned Englebert. "If it's sticking out like that you'll not only be noticed, but an altar boy might step on it."

"What's an altar boy?" asked Chauncey, tucking his bushy striped tail around his feet.

"Shh!" retorted Englebert. "Be quiet! We'll have to wait a while before the Mass begins. I'm going to take a little nap. You'd better grab some shuteye, too—but for goodness sake, don't snore!"

"What's snore?" asked Chauncey, but Englebert just ignored him.

Chauncey couldn't sleep, so he amused himself by looking at the crib and the altar and the pictures in the windows with the moonlight streaming in. After what seemed like an age, things began to happen. Father Nicholas came in and turned on the lights and some people started to drift into the church. Then two boys dressed in long robes began to light the candles on the altar; everything shimmered and glowed—"just like a big, big shiny thing," thought Chauncey. Then the organ started to play and the people began to sing. He had never heard anything like that before. "Boy, that's nice!" he whispered to Englebert who was finally awake. "What is it?"

"It's an organ!" Englebert whispered back. "Be quiet, will you?"

"Nobody can hear me with all that music going on," reasoned Chauncey.

"I know," Englebert said, "but it's not polite to God to talk so much in His house."

"But—those people are all singing," retorted Chauncey. "Isn't that sort of talking? How come they can be so loud and I mustn't even whisper, huh?"

"It's different," explained Englebert. "They're praising God, or telling about the wonderful things He has done or else they are praying. Now be quiet, will you!"

"O.K." Chauncey replied meekly. He wanted to ask what "praying" was, but he was afraid Englebert would get angry. Besides, he didn't want to be impolite to God, so he decided to save all his questions until after they left the church.

From his hiding place under the trees he could see every detail of the Mass very clearly and he could hear perfectly. Never in his life had he experienced anything like this; he felt good all over and he could hardly wait for God to come out of His little "den"—"tabernacle", Englebert had called it.

When Father Nicholas began to speak to the people, Chauncey was all ears. He was sure that the reason Englebert was so smart was because he had heard Father Nicholas speak many times, so he decided to learn as much as he could while he had the chance.

Father Nicholas spoke about the Baby Jesus and how He had come to earth so people could get to Heaven. He explained how Jesus stays with the people who are still on earth by giving priests the power to change bread and wine into His Body and Blood, so that people can receive Him. Only God could make that possible.

"So tonight," Father Nicholas continued, "and every time you receive Holy Communion you are really holding the Baby Jesus in your heart."

"Oh my," thought Chauncey, "people should be very happy about that. I hope they appreciate how wonderful it is that they can go to Holy Communion."

Father Nicholas concluded his talk by suggesting that everybody bring the Baby Jesus a birthday present. "Give Him your heart, your desires, your resolutions to do something special for Him." Father said. "Give Him whatever you think He might like."

Chauncey thought a lot about that. He knew he couldn't receive Jesus, but he did want to give Him a birthday present. But he kept thinking, "I'm only a raccoon. What could I possible give the Baby Jesus?"

Later, as the Mass continued, Englebert nudged Chauncey and said quietly, "Watch now. Father Nicholas is going to lift the Host up for everybody to see and to adore. You wanted to see God. This is your chance."

Chauncey leaned forward so far in his eagerness not to miss seeing God that he almost fell out of his hiding place. When Father Nicholas elevated the Host, the little raccoon trembled all over—not a scary tremble, but a very nice tremble, as if all the most wonderful things in his whole life were happening to him all at once. For once he didn't want to ask any questions. He just looked at the Host with his bright little eyes and whispered softly—so softly that not even Englebert could hear him, "Baby Jesus, I love you!"

After that Chauncey was in a kind of daze, and when Mass was over and everyone had gone home and all the lights were out, except the one in front of the tabernacle, Englebert had to nip his cousin in the leg to make him leave. They crept out the same way they had come in—down the cellar steps and out the cellar door.

They scampered along in silence for a few minutes. Finally Englebert couldn't stand it any longer. "What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Don't you have any more questions?"

"Oh, yes, I have a question," replied Chauncey. "Just one. What can I give the Baby Jesus for His birthday?"

Englebert stopped in his tracks. "That's the dumbest question you've ever asked," he exclaimed. "You're a raccoon, little cousin. What does a raccoon have to give anybody? Nothing. The Baby Jesus doesn't expect presents from the likes of you."

"Just the same, I want to give Him something," persisted Chauncey. "I know I don't have anything, but..." Then he kept quiet again, because he had just thought of something he could give the Baby Jesus, but he didn't want to tell Englebert or anybody about it.

When he got home, his Mama was awake. "Where have you been?" she demanded. "I was worried sick about you!"

"I... I've been with Englebert," Chauncey replied truthfully.

"I wish you wouldn't hang around with him," Mama scolded. "He's always going where there are people. One day he'll get shot. Now go to sleep like a good boy."

"O.K.," said Chauncey, who was really very tired. His present for Baby Jesus would have to wait until later. As he curled up next to his brother and sisters, he muttered "Merry Christmas, Mama!"

"Christmas? What's Christmas?" asked his mother. "What has Englebert been telling you?"

But Chauncey was fast asleep.

When he woke up, he crawled carefully over Mama and his brother and sisters to the door of the den and looked outside. It was daylight, but it was snowing very lightly. Chauncey thought to himself, "I hate to go out in the snow, but I have to bring the Baby Jesus my present. Today is His birthday. And I don't dare wait until later. The weather may get worse and if it stops snowing I might run into Englebert. I don't want him to see what I'm giving Jesus, so I'd better get going."

Very quietly he went to the hiding place, reached in and took out the shiny thing. He felt its smoothness and watched it sparkle even in the dull light from the snowy sky and for one moment he thought he would like to keep it, but he quickly overcame the impulse and put it in his mouth to carry it. "It's all I've got," he said to himself, "so it's all I can give Him."

He shinnied down the trunk and ran as fast as he could to the church, circling around behind the tree where Englebert lived, so that his cousin wouldn't see him if he was awake. He ran to the basement door of the church, shook the snow off his fur, stood up and reached for the doorknob. "Gosh, I hope it's open," he thought. He grabbed the knob the way he had seen Englebert do and to his relief the door opened. Chauncey slipped in, ran down the steps into the basement, located the stairs that led up to the sacristy and hurried over to the door that opened on to the sanctuary.

It was very dark in the church, but the flickering red of the sanctuary lamp showed him the tabernacle.

"Good! Jesus is home," thought Chauncey. "I'd like to take my present and put it up there right in front of the door where He'd see it when He comes out, but I'd better not. My feet are all wet from the snow; I'd dirty the cloth, so I'll put it here on the floor right in front of Him. He'll see it and know it's for Him."

He took the shiny thing out of his mouth and placed it carefully on the floor. It immediately caught the light from the sanctuary lamp and glittered like a red and white star.

"Boy, that's pretty," thought Chauncey. Then he said to Jesus, "Happy Birthday, dear Jesus! I hope you like my present. It's not much, but it's all I have and I've been hiding it in the wall of my den for a long time. Maybe You can put it somewhere in Your tabernacle den, so You can watch it sparkle like I did."

With that the little raccoon retraced his steps and hurried home through the falling snow to his den, where the rest of his family was still fast asleep.

What Chauncey did not know was that he had been observed. Father Nicholas, who had slipped into the darkened church for a visit to Jesus, had seen the whole thing. First he had noticed Chauncey's bright little eyes shining with light reflected from the sanctuary lamp. "My goodness, what's that raccoon doing in here?" thought Father Nicholas. He was going to chase him out, but when he saw Chauncey take the shiny thing out of his mouth and place it on the floor before the tabernacle, he kept very quiet. "I do believe that little fellow is bringing Jesus a present," Father Nicholas said to himself.

After Chauncey had left, Father Nicholas examined the present. He turned it around and around; it sparkled and glittered brilliantly. "It couldn't be," he said to himself, "but it certainly looks like it. I think I'll just put this in the safe and tomorrow I'll go see Mr. Love, the jeweler."

After that Chauncey frequently came with Englebert to eat the food that Father Nicholas provided for them. Whenever he had a chance, he would hurry up to the church for a short visit with Jesus. The shiny thing was gone, but he had expected it to be; he thought Jesus had probably taken it into His den.

It was a whole year later before Chauncey heard any more about the shiny thing. He had decided to attend Midnight Mass, not with Englebert this time, but with several little raccoon kits that called him "Daddy". He had introduced them to Father Nicholas some time before and they had become regular guests in the basement dining room. On Christmas Eve, he had led them up the stairs and showed them the crib and then hidden them under the trees just as he and Englebert had hidden the year before.

It came as a complete surprise to him when Father Nicholas told his congregation all about the shiny thing being left on the altar steps by a raccoon the year before. He continued: "I thought it was a diamond, so I took it to Mr. Love, the jeweler, who confirmed my suspicions. I put a notice in the paper to try to find the person who lost it, but no one claimed the jewel.

"Since the little raccoon had apparently brought the diamond as a present to Jesus, I decided to use it as Jesus would have used it Himself. I sold it and for the money I received I was able to help a number o people. It was possible to pay off the mortgage on a poor widow's home, to buy braces for a little crippled boy, to get food for a number of families who were in need of it, shoes and coats and gloves for some children who needed them very much and a number of other things.

"Furthermore, the person who bought the diamond from me, presented it to the Bishop on his anniversary and the Bishop sold it and used the money he received for it to help people in need, too. So you see how the birthday gift one raccoon gave to the Baby Jesus has made many people happy. I am sure the Holy Child is happy, too, and will bless the little 'coon abundantly."

Later as Chauncey led the kits home they asked him lots of questions.

"Yes," he replied to their queries, "I gave the shiny thing to the Baby Jesus for a birthday present last year."

"Didn't you mind giving it up, Daddy?" piped up one little raccoon.

"A little," answered Chauncey truthfully, "but see what happens when you give Jesus something. He keeps it; but He gives it back to you in another way."

"What do you mean, Daddy?" asked another kit.

"I mean," replied Chauncey, who by now had become a very wise raccoon, "that everything we give to Jesus not only gives Him pleasure, but makes us and others happy, too."

"Just like all those people who were helped are happy, huh?" asked the smallest raccoon.

"Right!" replied Chauncey. "Now stop asking questions and get to bed."

"O.K. Daddy—and Merry Christmas!" they chorused.

"Yes, it is a Merry Christmas, dear Jesus," sighed Chauncey as he looked out into the cold, sparkling night. "Last year I gave You the shiny thing that I wanted very much to keep for myself, but now You have made me so happy that I feel as if I had in my heart another and even brighter shiny thing that I can keep forever."